


The Relentless Persistence of Destiny

by jacksparrow589



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: A bit of Anne dithering over Gil, Basically a mishmash of every Anne story there is, Except Diana and Anne, F/F, F/M, Gen, Historical college AU I guess?, Lots of female friendship, Not Canon Compliant, They all meet at Redmond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksparrow589/pseuds/jacksparrow589
Summary: "Seems you two were destined to meet. I didn't put it together when you and Diana said you were from Avonlea, but Gilbert's also originally from there. Apparently he and Diana were schoolmates.""You came to Avonlea the year after Gilbert left," Diana informed Anne. "And in an even more grand coincidence, you're once again neighbors back in Avonlea!"Anne recalled Marilla and Matthew discussing the Blythe property a time or two, but she hadn't really paid attention.Gilbert laughed. "With that many coincidences, I'm willing to concede there might be greater forces at work." He turned his gaze to Anne, and the butterflies in Anne's stomach were reaching fever pitch. Anne tried to tamp it down.He's just handsome. You've seen handsome men before!"What do you think, Anne? Is it coincidence? Destiny?"------Instead of returning to Avonlea, Gilbert and his dad wound up needing to stay in Alberta for a while. But, as we all know, in any eventuality where Anne and Gilbert meet, they can't keep from falling in love eventually. So, even though this universe keeps them apart until Redmond, it certainly can't keep them from falling in love!
Relationships: Diana Barry & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Philippa Gordon & Anne Shirley, Philippa Gordon/Diana Barry, one-sided Roy Gardner/Anne Shirley
Comments: 155
Kudos: 198





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit more of an in-depth explanation of how we got to where we are at the start of this story: Anne still came to Green Gables and stayed mostly per AWAE. Per the books, she did Queen's in one year, and returned to Avonlea when Matthew's health failed, though not fatally (per nothing except my desire to see Matthew _alive,_ dammit!). She taught in Avonlea for one year, and, as the story begins, she's in her first year at Redmond.
> 
> As for Gilbert his life before this story mostly follows the books, save for one large difference: he and his dad decided to settle down in Alberta since John's health got really bad for a while. He recovered, but they decided to stay until Gilbert had finished his schoolhouse and years that would be Queen's except he did them in Alberta. He did the same Queen's-but-in-Alberta in one year/teaching for the other, but as a result of his travels delaying his education, he's only a year ahead of Anne. John comes back to Avonlea as Gilbert is off to Redmond.
> 
> As for other characters, I'm definitely taking pretty big liberties with Roy and Phil, painting them in ways I'd have liked to have seen had AWAE been more faithful to the events of the books, though since Anne and Gil don't meet until college here, it's kind of all out the window at some point. ^^; Phil is in the same year as Gilbert, and Roy is either their year or a year older, but it doesn't really matter. Some things about these two will be similar to the books, though only in _very_ broad strokes. Others… perhaps not so much. *looks at the tags*
> 
> This work was inspired when, while taking a shower, I was listening to "Paris" by Caro Emerald (Yes, Paris, I know... *sigh*...), and it seemed to fit Anne's general attitude. I was going to have her be a seamstress (while trying to make ends meet as a writer) and meet Gil. The idea went through several quick revisions in my head, and by the time I was done drying my hair, the idea was pretty much what you see here. I quickly came up with an outline loosely based on the general tone of some of the songs. I'll probably post a list of which songs go to which chapters eventually.
> 
> Got it? Oooookay, let's gooooooooo!

"Kingsport!" Anne breathed in the air. "Oh, this is so exciting, Diana!"

Diana made a contented noise and nodded, taking the sea air in, herself.

The young women made their way off the train and lingered on the platform for a moment before hailing a porter to help deal with Anne's luggage, and a cart to get them to Anne's lodgings.

On the way, they talked about how often they could manage visits. Diana's parents had acquiesced to sending her to Queen's, but they'd put their food down when it came to college, and Diana had admitted that she didn't have quite the academic aspirations that Anne had. Instead, presenting it to her parents as a cost-saving measure, Diana had persuaded them to allow her to remain in Charlottetown, where Aunt Jo could instruct her in comportment, and potentially connect her with a future husband. To her great shock, it had worked flawlessly.

Of course, the shining bonus in all of this was that Diana was closer to Kingsport, and could come to see Anne more frequently and with fewer questions than if she lived in Avonlea. She promised to bring Cole along on some of the trips, and the only reason Cole was absent today was that he was attending an art exhibition at a Charlottetown gallery where student works were being featured, including one of Cole's own sculptures, as well as a very pretty watercolor that he'd managed recently. He'd given Diana and Anne a preview before they'd departed, and the two had lamented not being able to stay and see the full exhibition. Cole had merely smiled and said that they'd just have to come up for the next one, and they'd agreed.

"You'd think I'd be used to moving around," Anne sighed eventually. "But it never gets any easier. I think…" she sniffled. "I think this is the hardest move yet, though."

Diana grabbed Anne's hands and rested her head on Anne's shoulder. "It'll certainly be an adjustment. We didn't actually wind up having to leave each other behind two years ago, and when you were teaching in Avonlea, it was so easy to see each other. I suppose we'll be writing very often. At least I'm not in Paris, so we'll get them quickly."

"You'll be able to tell me when you meet the man of your dreams." Anne turned to smile at Diana, and she grinned back.

"I suspect you'll meet the man of your dreams first, Anne," Diana told her earnestly.

Anne scoffed. "I doubt it. You saw how that worked out at Queen's."

Diana rolled her eyes. "It's not your fault that Charlie Sloane didn't have the good sense to see that college was right for you." She squeezed Anne's hand again. "And it's certainly not your fault that some back in Avonlea don't understand, either. You have so much to offer the world, Anne. Your precious gifts are not to be wasted, and you'll be able to surround yourself here with people who really understand that."

"I hope so." Anne looked around. "It'll certainly be interesting to see only Jane here. I wish it could be you and Ruby, but I understand why it isn't."

"Well, there are other girls here. You're sharing a room, didn't you say? With a girl named Philippa who's been at Redmond a year already."

Anne nodded. "I hope we'll get along, certainly, but new people are still…"

Diana turned and put her hands on Anne's shoulders. "Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, you are bright-eyed and big-brained, and anyone who doesn't fall in love with you at first glance is not worth your time or effort."

Anne wiped her eyes discreetly. "Oh, Diana…" She embraced her best friend, who wrapped her arms around Anne in turn.

"We're here," the cart driver informed them, offering a hand to let the girls down.

A young woman came out of the boardinghouse. She was a little taller than Anne, and strongly reminded her of Prissy Andrews with Jane's complexion.

"Welcome!" The other girl beamed as she greeted them. "I'm Phil—Philippa, but I prefer Phil—Gordon."

Anne held out her hand. "I'm Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. I'm the one who will actually be sharing lodgings with you this year. This is my best friend, Diana Barry. She's staying in Charlottetown with her aunt, and I was hoping it would be alright if she stayed here tonight."

"Of course!" Phil shook Anne's hand and then Diana's. "Diana, you can even come to the new student social tomorrow. My philosophy is that as much pleasant company as possible should attend any event."

Diana glanced at Anne—who nodded excitedly—and then grinned shyly at Phil. "I'd like that very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Phil! I had fun making her and Diana Anne's Greek chorus, more or less. Phil's kind of Anne's cool big sis in this story. I think she's the character I take the most liberties with, so you may like her, or you may not. If she's really bothering you, please imagine her as an OC.
> 
> I'm not sure what my posting schedule for this one looks like, but probably updates once or twice a week. I still don't have the full thing written (though I have it all outlined), and life outside of work is keeping me busy enough that it's actually not as easy as I'd like to find time to write at the moment, but I've just been so excited about this that I couldn't not post it!


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doing my usual "posting the first two chapters together" thing. Mostly because the prologue is really short, but also because I didn't want to delay the inevitable flying of sparks.  
> Also, Phil is absolutely my self-insert "fuck the patriarchy" character in this chapter. Well, really in every chapter.

Anne had thought she'd be too nervous to sleep, but between Diana's presence and Phil's comfortable demeanor putting her immediately at ease, Anne had slept well, and the trio of young women were more than ready to go by the time the social rolled around the next morning.

Thankfully, the day was sunny and mild, and so the three young women set off without a care in the world, a new friendship budding quickly among the three of them.

Phil introduced Anne to a few of the older students and professors helping to run the social, including a few professors Anne either had for the fall term, or was likely to have within the year, while also making sure Diana wasn't neglected when Anne did stop to talk to a professor or new classmate.

Anne was just finishing up with a professor, when Diana plucked at her sleeve. Anne quickly excused herself and followed Diana.

"You're not going to _believe_ who Phil knows," Diana whispered, tugging on Anne's arm urgently. "This is the most astonishing coincidence!"

Anne's stomach turned over nervously. Had Anne missed that an Avonlea boy was attending? Anne really hadn't known the older Avonlea boys, but she'd thought that most of them had stayed in Avonlea or moved to Charlottetown to work, and Charlie had gone off to Prince of Wales College back on PEI!

Her stomach dropped entirely when they all but skidded to a stop next to Phil. The young man conversing with Phil wasn't Charlie, but at a first cursory glance as Anne caught her breath, it could have been.

"Anne, meet Gilbert Blythe. Gilbert, this is Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Gilbert and I are both studying life sciences," Phil explained.

Gilbert smiled at her, and all Anne could think was that whatever her first impression might have been, this young man was _not_ Charlie Sloane. "I… um, it's a pleasure." Anne stretched out her hand to take Gilbert's outstretched one.

Gilbert shook it briefly but warmly and let it go, with a sincere, "The pleasure's all mine."

Anne blinked, not sure what to say to that, her stomach now fluttering instead of flopping over unpleasantly. _Small mercies…_ Thankfully, Phil jumped right back in. "Seems you two were destined to meet. I didn't put it together when you and Diana said you were from Avonlea, but Gilbert's also originally from there. Apparently he and Diana were schoolmates."

"You came to Avonlea the year after Gilbert left," Diana informed Anne. "And in an even more grand coincidence, you're once again neighbors back in Avonlea!"

Anne recalled Marilla and Matthew discussing the Blythe property a time or two, but she hadn't really paid attention.

Gilbert laughed. "With that many coincidences, I'm willing to concede there might be greater forces at work." He turned his gaze to Anne, and the butterflies in Anne's stomach were reaching fever pitch. Anne tried to tamp it down. _He's just handsome. You've seen handsome men before!_ "What do you think, Anne? Is it coincidence? Destiny?"

"As I am a firm believer in the notion that we all make our own destinies, I think… that it's both," Anne said carefully. "We could have taken any number of different paths and met earlier or not at all, but our choices have led us here, and so we have indeed met."

"I think that's an excellent philosophy to have, but I will be honest: whatever you were going to say, I was still going to say that I'm happy that it brought us together." Gilbert's grin broadened, and Anne couldn't help smiling back and nodding nervously.

"Well, I suppose we'll be seeing rather a lot of each other this year, then," she said quietly.

Gilbert's eyebrows knit just a little in confusion. "I thought your course was in English?"

Phil clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Don't tease, Gilbert! You know perfectly well what Anne means! Goodness… And here, Diana and I thought you were well-mannered!" She linked arms with Anne. "Come on, Anne. If he's going to be so rude, we're better off not associating with this boor."

"You wound me, Phil," drawled Gilbert before apologizing to Anne. "Phil's right, though; that was rude of me. I apologize."

"I-it's fine." Anne could feel the color rising in her cheeks just a little. It was one thing when her friends teased her. Even from Phil, the remark wouldn't have cut so much—not that it should cut at all! Well, if this Gilbert Blythe felt he had license to tease, Anne wasn't going to hold back either, she decided. "I understand if the thought of an English class is intimidating to you."

Phil let out a surprised guffaw, Diana covered her mouth to hide a laugh, and Gilbert chuckled. "I should have known better than to engage in a battle of wits with someone of your obviously exceptional caliber. I suspect you'll best me every time, but if you'd humor me with a spar every once in a while…?"

Anne had never thought she'd find sincerity so unsettling, but her nerves would _not_ calm! Maybe it was the way he was looking at her. He hadn't mentioned her hair at all, but he'd certainly been _looking_ at it quite a lot, and Anne couldn't help feeling exposed. Still, she'd resolved to match him, and so Anne had to reply as offhandedly as she could, "Anytime you feel like you need humbling…"

Gilbert nodded. "If it's by your hand, I don't think I'll mind." Did he ever stop grinning? Diana was trying to hide that her jaw had dropped, and Phil wasn't bothering to hide it at all. Gilbert looked around. "I should really go talk to some of the new students in the program, and so should you Phil." He gave a short laugh when Phil flapped a hand dismissively. "Good to see you again, Diana. I hope your journey back to Charlottetown goes smoothly. Say hello to Cole for me."

Diana nodded. "I will. It's good to see you, too. I hope we'll all see you at breaks now."

"Definitely." Gilbert focused on Anne one last time. "I hope we'll cross paths—and perhaps swords—again soon, Anne."

"I'm sure we will," Anne assured him.

The trio of young women watched him go. Just as Anne was about to say that they should be heading to the train station, Diana and Phil pounced.

"Anne, did you _see_ the way he was looking at you?!" Diana gasped.

"Yes, and I didn't like it," Anne replied. "He was staring at my hair!"

"Because it's utterly enchanting! Anne, your hair is liquid fire!" Phil told her. "Gilbert doesn't look at _anyone_ else like that, and believe me: I've been in classes with him. I know when he doesn't like someone. He likes you. No; more than that—he's utterly _smitten_."

Anne rolled her eyes. "It seems I can't dissuade you, but we should at least continue this conversation on the way back to the train station?"

The smiles Phil and Diana gave her did nothing to assuage Anne, but at least they started toward the station with Anne.

* * *

_I should have known they wouldn't let up. Perhaps I can distract Phil once Diana's left._

Phil and Diana had not stopped going on about how Gilbert had been looking at Anne, how nice he'd been when Diana had known him (and how it was practically a rite of passage for the girls their age in Avonlea to have a crush on Gilbert, with Ruby's having gone on the longest) and how mature he'd gotten, how much better he was than Charlie (Anne promised to tell Phil the story later, and the older girl had accepted this explanation with only a little bit of a frown to mirror Anne's), how Phil really had never seen him act like this before… on and on it went.

"Anne, he's in awe of you," Phil insisted, practically pleading.

"He went along with my joke!" protested Anne. "And he started it, anyway."

"There was definitely truth to his response. I'm holding firm on this, Anne: he thinks you hung the moon. Well, the stars maybe, with your freckles…"

Anne rolled her eyes. "I'm happy to be _friends_ with him; is that not enough?"

"No!" Diana cried at the same time Phil answered, "It certainly is not!"

Anne sighed. "Well, we're here. Hopefully, we can spend your next visit talking about something other than Gilbert."

"I certainly hope not!" Diana and Anne embraced and kissed each other on the cheek. Diana pulled back. "I'll miss you, Anne. You must write often. And you must also send Cole and Aunt Jo your love—I told them I'd make you promise!"

Anne laughed. "I will, I promise."

Diana turned to Phil. "It was lovely to get to know you, Phil." She hesitated, then stepped forward and embraced Phil, as well, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

Phil's grin was uncharacteristically shy as she pulled away. "The feeling is very mutual, Diana," she replied quietly. "I hope you'll come back for a visit soon."

"I will," promised Diana. She thought for a moment, then added, "Until I do, you must keep encouraging Anne—and Gilbert as well!"

Phil put her hand over heart, ignoring Anne's exasperated groan. "I swear to do my utmost."

The boarding calls for the train started. Diana blew her friends a kiss and turned to board the train. Anne and Phil waited until Diana found a seat, then the girls waved to each other until the train was out of sight.

"So…" Phil turned to Anne. "Perhaps we ought to get the unpleasant business out of the way first, if it won't be too difficult for you to speak about. Who is Charlie?"

Anne sighed and linked arms with Phil as they began to walk. "He was a boy I met back when I lived in Avonlea. The year we took our Queen's exams, he expressed an intention to court me. He wasn't… wasn't my ideal choice, and so I turned him down, but he was persistent. He went through all the motions a suitor should, and really, he was very nice.

"When we got to Queen's, I thought that, even if he was lacking in imagination and humor, he didn't seem to mind that I had intellectual aspirations. He was even proud of me for getting through Queen's in one year and starting teaching…" Anne sighed.

"And then I expressed that I was saving up to attend Redmond. I'd thought it would have been be clear that that was my intent, given that I had every intention of accepting the Avery scholarship, but my adoptive father, Matthew, got seriously ill just after that year, and so I stayed in Avonlea last year teaching while Charlie finished up at Queen's.

"He came home and told me he'd propose as soon as he finished college at Prince of Wales, and when I said that I intended to pursue my B.A. here, he said…" Anne took a shaky breath, and Phil clutched Anne's hand. "He said that there was no point, since I already write perfectly well. That I could write on the side once we had children. And that, though his family could support us for only a short time… that I… since I didn't h-have a dowry—" Anne gulped, fully fighting off tears now "—and that since Matthew hadn't passed and I had no inheritance… that I had better… that I had better make money now."

"Anne…" Phil pulled them to a stop and turned to pull Anne into an embrace. "It's a very good thing for him that he and his poison stayed on Prince Edward Island, because you'd better believe I'd murder him on sight! He as good as wished your father dead for want of money!"

Anne choked out a laugh through her tears. "Phil, we come from a relatively poor farming community. I don't… I don't resent that a husband might need me to do what I can to help out."

"Of course not, but to make those remarks and then go off to college himself... the idea that a man's college education takes priority over a woman's… We're entering the twentieth century. Women should have _more_ rights; _more_ opportunities! What's Charlie going to do with his degree that you couldn't?!"

"That _is_ why I'm here, Phil," Anne reminded her, her voice still quavering, but growing stronger. "I'm getting my degree, becoming a journalist, and—hopefully—changing the world."

"Absolutely, you will," Phil promised, giving Anne a tight squeeze before releasing her. "And if any man wants to tell you that your education is worth than less than his, please send him to me. I'm currently learning about chemistry, and I've access to quite an array of unpleasant substances. Butyric acid, for instance, in addition to being caustic and good at ruining dresses, has an _incredibly_ off-putting scent."

"Ruining dresses, eh?" Anne sniffed. "It sounds like you have a story to tell."

"Far too many, really." Phil gave Anne a rueful grin. "And I'm sure I'll pick up a few more this year."

Anne was smiling again. "I look forward to hearing them. I promise to tell you all of my embarrassing mistakes, as well."

Phil laughed. "It's a deal!"

* * *

Lights-out had been half an hour ago, but Anne and Phil had continued to talk quietly. Phil seemed rather contrite for having brought up Charlie earlier, and had since been regaling Anne with stories of the mistakes various students had made in the previous year, with Anne telling Phil about her students back in Avonlea.

Eventually, Phil brought up an incident where Gilbert had unwittingly spilled some fresh seaweed on the steps of the science building and Phil had nearly slipped on it. Gilbert had turned to tell her to stop and in so doing had stepped on another piece he'd dropped. He'd apparently had to do quite the juggling and stumbling act to stay upright, but he'd managed it.

"He really is wonderful, you know."

Anne had rolled her eyes. "Not this again. Phil, really."

Phil rolled her eyes right back. "Anne, I _know_ you found him handsome—"

" _Plenty_ of men are handsome," Anne whispered back.

"—and when he flirted with you—"

" _Flirted?!_ " Anne hissed.

"— _you_ flirted back. And you certainly seemed eager to see him again." Anne couldn't see Phil crossing her arms and grinning, but she could _hear_ it.

"I was being polite!"

Phil scoffed. "Polite would have been accepting his apology, telling him again that it was nice to meet him, and walking away. You teased him—"

"He teased me first!" Anne reminded her.

"—and you _enjoyed_ it," Phil finished triumphantly.

Anne opened her mouth to protest again, only to realize that she could not truthfully say she hadn't enjoyed it by the end. After Gilbert had apologized, she could have just let it go. Instead, she'd risen to his challenge, and not because she wanted him to feel as hurt as she had when he'd initially teased her, but because she liked the challenge, and she liked that he did, too.

Anne pulled her pillow over her face and smothered a groan as Phil laughed as quietly as she could.

"Would it be so horrible, Anne? You both clearly like each other. You don't have to… to say you're courting or anything. Just spend time with him as a friend! See if there's really a basis for something more." Phil was silent for a moment, but her voice was almost filled with longing when she spoke next. "If… if there's a chance for true, mutual, _loving_ happiness, you owe it to yourself to take it."

"Phil…" Anne murmured.

Phil rolled onto her back, not quite shutting Anne out, but signaling that the conversation was done for the night.

After a long minute, Anne whispered, "Good night, Phil."

It took another just too-long silence, but when Phil whispered, "Good night, Anne," at least Anne could hear her smiling again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter in my head is basically just Anne going "OH NO HE'S HOT!" Girl does not stand a chance, and she already kind of knows it, but this wouldn't be Anne if she didn't fight it for at least a little while.  
> The interloper coming in next chapter certainly doesn't help things.  
> Other things…  
> Butyric acid really does smell terrible, and I have a lab story about it. Specifically, I was sick with a headcold when we were working with it, so I was snotting all over the place but (mercifully) couldn't smell very well. People were gagging, and from what little I could smell, I understood why. Meanwhile, I had to walk up to my incredibly cute substitute teacher with a wad of tissues under my nose and ask to go out into the hall because my nose would *not* stop running. Fun times…  
> Anyway, per usual, I will now beg for comments, be they about the story, your very own "OH NO THEY'RE HOT" moment, or a school science lab incident.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun with Roy basically being a more obnoxious, insidious version of Tamaki from Ouran High School Host Club, or perhaps more accurately Green Gables Fables Roy but worse.

The next day was still nice enough that Phil decided to take Anne on a tour of some of the less-appreciated places on campus, as she termed it. She'd have to meet with a professor later, so Anne brought along some books to read while she waited, telling Phil expressly that she'd like to find some of the best reading nooks.

"Gilbert's going to be better for those, honestly. You should see the way he'll contort himself to fit into a space where he can just hide and lose himself in his notes—it's ridiculous!" Phil laughed. "The librarians don't know what to make of it because he's perfectly quiet, and he's not taking up more room than he ought, but the whole reason I got to know him in the first place is because I tripped over him while looking for a place to study one day!"

Anne laughed and threaded her arm through Phil's. "Diana says she's seen me do much the same _and_ I spread out! Perhaps I could learn a thing or two from Gilbert!"

Phil waggled her eyebrows. "Perhaps you might. The two of you can find places to study together…"

Anne swatted Phil's arm gently with the book in her free hand. "Philippa Gordon, that is not at _all_ what I meant, and you know it."

"Doesn't have to be. Sometimes, love falls into your lap when you least expect it!" Phil reminded her.

"For now, I think I'll settle for friendship," Anne replied, not seeing Phil's brief frown.

"Well, you certainly won't be short on friendship with me around. I've been told I'm a social butterfly." Phil squeezed Anne's hand. "You'll just have to let me know if it gets too exhausting."

Anne let out a soft laugh. "I can certainly promise I will let you know, but I think, absent schoolwork, I might match you measure for measure."

Broad grin restored, Phil replied, "Splendid!"

* * *

Phil and Anne continued walking, chatting easily until they got to the campus. After that, Phil went into guide mode, pointing out places for talking and people-watching and the occasional study picnic the few days a year that the weather was good for it.

"And the library… I'll get Gilbert to show you around there later," Phil promised.

Anne bit back another remark about Phil's rather obvious ulterior motive, but she couldn't deny that if they had similar study habits, that might be the best course of action. Gilbert certainly seemed like a nice person by both Phil and Diana's accounts and by Anne's own impression. She hadn't particularly appreciated the way he'd looked at her hair, but at least he'd had the good sense not to mention it, which was more than she could say for most people. (And even then, the look hadn't been cruel, but rather just very _interested_.) 

Eventually, the pair settled on a bench while Phil waited for her meeting. Phil described her numerous acquaintances and friends as they meandered by. Some waved hellos, and some didn't notice, and Phil did point out a few former friends, though none of the of the disagreements seemed too severe to Anne.

Finally, Phil pointed out a young man walking by. "That's Royal—Roy—Gardner. He's always entertaining to have around, as he fancies himself a poet. He's got the loquaciousness for it, at least. The real draw for most people, though, is that his family is obscenely wealthy. As a result, he's quite possibly the most desirable man at Redmond... and that's about all there is to him. Thankfully, though he enjoys the attention, it's clear that his own attentions are rarely serious. Roy!" Phil called, waving him over.

Roy was certainly handsome, Anne had to admit, and he knew how to smile. Anne had to believe that Roy was aware of it, too, because while he gave Phil a friendly smile, when he saw Anne, she could see the immediate shift in his demeanor. It was unnervingly clear that she was the sole focus of his intensified attention, and if Anne had been able to steal a look at Phil, she would have seen the mild surprise on her new friend's face.

" _Who_ is this divinely rosy beauty?!" Roy purred, clearly waiting for Anne to introduce herself.

Anne stayed seated on the bench, not quite sure how to react. No boy who'd shown interest before had been nearly so flowery (literally or figuratively) about it, and none of the men she was acquainted with would be nearly so bold.And really, of all the things to compare her to, she wasn't sure that roses were the closest, especially where her hair was concerned, and from the way Roy was looking at her, her hair was absolutely concerned. 

Phil cut in smoothly. "Anne, this is Royal Gardner. Roy, this is Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. 'Anne' is spelled with an E," Phil added with a wink in Anne's direction before stage whispering, "He needs to know how to spell your name so that he can write a poem about you."

Roy took Anne's hand and bowed over it. "It is an _immense_ pleasure to make your acquaintance, Anne. And ah, what a lovely spelling! Graceful, delicate… yes, it's very fitting," he declared, not noticing Anne's brief frown at being declared _delicate_.

"Phil tells me you write poetry?" Anne forced a smile, trying to give Roy a second chance. Having a penchant for the dramatic and being flirtatious didn't make him a bad person.

Roy sighed indulgently. "Philippa, how many times must I remind you that I _compose_ poetry!"

"About as many times as I have to remind you that I prefer to be called Phil," Phil answered cheerfully.

Roy scoffed a little. "But 'Philippa' is so elegant! 'Phil' is so harsh; so... _masculine_."

"Well," Anne piped up, "'Phil' is actually the Greek root meaning 'love'. Not that love is masculine or feminine, but I don't think it's harsh, either."

Phil shot her a grateful look as Roy gawped at her before taking her hands. "A beauty—and a poet after my own _soul_! Oh, Anne, you and I are truly cut from the same cloth…"

"You would know that about my name if you paid attention, Roy," Phil deadpanned.

Roy tossed his head. "I pay attention to what matters, darling Phil."

"Some of the time, anyway," Phil murmured. "Roy, Anne is studying English."

" _Obviously._ The young lady has the beauty of language in her soul. Please keep up with the conversation." Roy turned back to Anne, still holding her hands, though he dropped them when Anne tugged them back. "And what is it exactly that flows forth from your soul, hmm? Poetry? Prose? A treatise on the glories of the spring blossoms and the summer fields and the autumn leaves and the delicate patterns of ice in the winter…"

Anne couldn't help a small smile. "Well, I do enjoy writing about nature, but I'm looking toward a career in journalism, actually. I'd like to write for a newspaper someday."

Roy appeared to mull this over for a moment, but finally, he returned Anne's grin. "How delightful! More women ought to see themselves reflected in writing, and newspapers are often so dull and uninteresting… Women need levity—a diversion from serious reading!"

Anne's brow furrowed. "Come again?"

Roy hastily backpedaled. "Women should be free to read whatever they want, of course, but newspapers are just so _dry_ , is all."

Anne grasped her books, and Phil, when she wasn't glaring at Roy, looked worried that she might have to keep Anne from giving Roy a (well-deserved, in Phil's opinion) smack across the face. With a dangerous edge in her voice, Anne asked, "Mister Gardner, tell me: have you read any of Nellie Bly's reporting?"

Sensing he was still very much on thin ice, Roy chose his words carefully. "I can't say I've had the privilege."

"Well, then," Anne replied icily, "I shall summarize.

"Just fifteen years ago, she exposed conditions in insane asylums by going undercover and being committed to one. She bravely endured indignities and injustices of all sorts, and even though she reverted to behaving just as normally as you or I immediately upon admission to the asylum, those very behaviors were used as justifications to keep her there! God only knows how many other women were thrown in there merely for being what the world deems 'unruly'!" Anne took a sharp breath, and then another calmer one.

"I had no idea," Roy said quietly. "The horrors she must have seen…"

"The point is that she didn't just _see_ them, Mister Gardner—she _lived_ them. And she wrote about them. And she did not shrink or wilt. Instead, she took a journey—alone—around the world and reported on it! For seventy two days, she traveled across continents and met all sorts of people and saw so much! She suffered setbacks, but not once did she falter or turn back. In short—" Anne stood. "—Nellie Bly is an inspiration and a hero, and she did not need to report on the latest fashions or social engagements in order for her reporting to not be considered _dry_."

Roy nodded. "I see. Well, surely such a formidable woman with years of wisdom and insight—"

"She was _twenty-three_ at the time," Anne interrupted angrily, unable to help herself. "Maybe I won't be as accomplished by then, but I hope my own writings will inspire shifts in perspective the way hers did."

"You speak with such passion. I cannot help but think that you will go on to achieve far more. And I hope you will count me among your friends and admirers when you do." Roy flashed a charming smile. "In fact, if I may be so bold, I hope you will count me as more than that. It would be my honor to give you the world, Anne."

It was one of those rare moments where Anne was at a loss for anything to say, let alone the right thing. She stared unblinkingly at Roy for several long moments, until Phil broke the silence with a hearty laugh that rang only a little false. "Roy, you should know better than to practically propose marriage after barely knowing a woman five minutes!" _Especially when she's spent most of that upset with you_ went unspoken.

Paying no heed, Roy gave her a look. "The heart knows what it wants, Phil, dear. People really ought not deny it."

"You are _astounding_." Phil rolled her eyes, then waved to someone. "Gilbert! Please come here and settle a debate between Roy and me!"

"Again?" Gilbert walked over. "What's the question under consideration today?"

"More of the same," Phil sighed. "Roy just practically proposed to Anne, and I'm telling him he doesn't know her well enough, yet he insists that he ought not deny his heart!"

Gilbert took several measured breaths, looking like he was trying not to laugh—or very possibly resisting an impulse to strangle. "You know I'm on your side on this one, Phil. Just like any friendship, it takes _time_ to build the trust for a lifelong partnership like marriage."

Roy shook his head. "Do you not have eyes, Blythe? If you did, you would see that Anne is lovely and fascinating and deserves every wonderful thing. And if I am in a position to give it to her—and I am—then why should I hold back? Is not the mere act of trying to figure out if you can trust someone with your heart a sort of mistrust itself?"

Gilbert's eyes widened in surprise before he pinched the bridge of his nose in disbelief that he was even having this conversation. "No, Roy, it really isn't."

"You're far too analytical to be romantic, the both of you," Roy harrumphed. "But I'm sure Anne understands. We are, after all, of the same artistic, _passionate_ persuasion." He turned his gaze back to Anne. "Whenever you're ready, darling. I will be here, willing and unafraid." He took a few steps backward, trying to hold his gaze with Anne, then turned and strode away.

Frustration seethed up inside Anne. She wanted to cry. It was Charlie all over again, only worse. How dare this pompous man make these assumptions and declarations? She supposed he must be used to getting what he wanted. He clearly wasn't used to hearing no, but she'd been so shocked that she hadn't even tried to say it. Instead, Phil had come to her rescue, and worse, she'd gone and gotten Gilbert involved! _I don't need them to fight my battles._

"Oh dear. Anne…" Phil reached out and took Anne's hand. Anne snapped around to face her, her cheeks flaming, and Phil winced. "I'm sorry. I have to go to my appointment. Will you be alright?"

Anne swallowed and nodded, making an affirmative noise in her throat, waving to Phil as Phil departed.

"Gardner's going to find himself unceremoniously tossed in a fountain one of these days," Gilbert sighed.

"This is usual for him?" Anne hoped the answer was yes. If Roy's attentions were going to turn elsewhere soon enough, she wouldn't spare him another thought.

Gilbert hesitated. "Yes and no," he said finally. "He's always chasing one girl or another, but I've never seen him quite so singularly focused—not that I've cared to pay attention, I admit. He's lucky more people weren't around to see him make a complete ass of himself." When Anne didn't say anything, Gilbert shook his head. "Sorry. I can leave you in peace if you'd rather not deal with people right now. Even at the best of times, interacting with Gardner is… taxing. I wonder how Phil puts up with it."

Anne had to laugh just a little. "Well, since you've said it…" Her smile broadened as Gilbert chuckled. "I take it you fancy yourself less taxing?"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "I admit to having faults, but I will say that one of my virtues is that I tend to be aware of them."

"That's not a no." Anne was grinning widely now.

"Well, how about you tell me? If you've nothing to do at the moment, and if you're agreeable, we can walk a little and see just how taxing I really am." There was a challenge in Gilbert's expression, but, if Anne was seeing it correctly, there was also hope.

Anne brushed her skirt out and clasped her books to her, affecting a businesslike air. "I accept your offer."

Gilbert nodded with a smile, and the two set off.

* * *

As they walked and chatted, Anne found herself nearly forgetting what had inspired the walk. Roy was all but banished from her mind as Gilbert spoke of his time in Alberta and asked after Anne's time at Queen's and then teaching, allowing Anne to carefully dodge her past before Avonlea and the whole mess with Charlie. Gilbert offered advice about dealing with the first year at Redmond. Most of it overlapped with Phil's advice, but Anne found herself not really minding. Gilbert was easy to talk with. He didn't make assumptions, but he didn't push a topic when it was off-limits, either. It made her want to open up just a little more, just to see how he responded.

Just as she was about to broach the topic of how nice it had been to leave the Hammonds and get into school, the bell tower tolled. Gilbert looked almost stricken.

"Is everything alright?" Anne wanted to know as soon as the bell stopped clanging.

Gilbert nodded. "I just didn't realize… we've been talking for an hour. I didn't mean to keep you from anything that might still need doing."

"It's fine, really—I was just waiting for Phil," Anne assured him. "I just hope you haven't been putting off anything _you_ need to do, either."

Gilbert shook his head. "Not at all, though I did say I'd meet my housemates before supper, so I'd better get going."

Anne nodded. "I said I'd walk home with Phil. I'd better go find her. We agreed to meet in the quad."

They stood facing each other for a moment, then both of them started to speak.

"It was nice—" Anne started, as Gilbert began, "I really enjoyed—"

They both laughed and Gilbert made a gesture for Anne to continue.

"Thank you for walking with me. I… had a nice time." Once again, Anne was having trouble finding her words, but it wasn't at all the same as it had been with Roy.

"And I enjoyed talking with you." Gilbert smiled warmly before admitting, "And I'd like to do this again—walk with you, get to know you—if… if that's something you'd like, as well."

Anne was surprised at how little she had to think before she had her answer. Quietly, she confirmed, "I'd like that very much," then she turned and walked off, leaving a smiling Gilbert in her wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it bad when you laugh at your own writing? Roy's just such a laughably obnoxious douchebag this chapter that I can't not! Similarly, writing Gil actually verbalizing his desire to dump Roy in a fountain given half a chance was very fun.
> 
> Absent her experience with Charlie, Anne probably would have laughed Roy off and been like, "Okay, he's just intense and weird" and not really taken anything he said seriously. Not sure whether that would have been better or worse.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to come out! I was trying to still stay a few chapters ahead on writing before posting, but between a busy work week that just left me sapped at the end of most days and losing a bit of time to digestive issues brought on by my own stupidity, writing has not been happening. Still, it's been a week, so I thought an update was due.  
> Bit of a content warning this time: Roy engages in some stalking behavior that may be upsetting to some readers.

The weeks that followed saw Anne falling into an easy pattern. Mornings and evenings were often spent with Phil, and sometimes their other housemates, as well. Anne was making friends in her classes, but between them, she mostly walked and talked with Phil and Gilbert. It had jarred her the first time Gilbert had shown up alone, especially as Phil had looked particularly smug when she'd walked home with Anne later, but Gilbert was indeed easy to be around.

Phil was certainly remaining true to her word to Diana. Anne had groused in a letter that Phil had started running ahead to classes even when she was walking with Anne and Gilbert, leaving Gilbert to open the door for Anne.

_And I can't complain, of course, because he's doing nothing wrong. In fact, he's being the perfect gentleman! And it doesn't seem disingenuous—he doesn't seem to be acting polite only to impress me. Rather to the contrary: the other day, when Phil didn't quite realize that she'd normally be running ahead, she skirted out of the English building behind two other students. As soon as we got outside, Gilbert called after Phil that if she was going to do that, the least she could do was hold the door for the both of us!_

_Phil said she was sorry._

_She certainly didn't look like she was._

Diana had replied that she had laughed and that she really had no advice, but if Anne would pass along the enclosed note of thanks—Anne grudgingly obliged, handing Phil the small, folded note with a very unimpressed eyeroll—she'd be very grateful.

Still, she was finding it easier and easier to open up to Gilbert. He didn't press her when she omitted details of her life before Avonlea, though he knew the rough outline, and on the rare occasion she did say something that had shocked others before, he merely accepted it with a sympathetic frown and told her, the few times it was something particularly distressing, that she hadn't deserved it.

"I _know,_ " she'd quavered the first time.

Gilbert had stopped and turned to look at her. "It never hurts to be reminded," he'd said softly.

Anne had wanted to weep openly there and then, but with a shuddering breath, she'd pulled herself together, managed a wobbly but sincere smile, and very quietly said, "Thank you."

She'd been learning bits about his life between leaving Avonlea and arriving in Kingsport, as well. His father's illness, trying to figure out when the right time was to move… and a particularly interesting story about a moose on a rampage that had Gilbert admitting to sheer terror as the town could really do nothing but wait for the animal to leave the area.

There had been a few stumbling blocks, to be sure. Phil had succumbed to a cold the second week of the term and had stayed home, and Gilbert had found Anne on a bench on campus after her classes. When Anne had asked how he'd found her so quickly, Gilbert had shrugged and said that he'd just looked for her hair. Anne had scowled and informed him that she was, in fact, _not_ the only redhead on campus, thank you very much, to which Gilbert had replied that she was, however, the only red-haired _woman_ on campus so far as he was aware… but that Anne was also wearing the blue dress she'd worn the day they'd met. Anne had conceded both points. 

Still, she'd caught him giving her glances sometimes. They weren't always at her hair, but when they were, Anne found herself annoyed not only by the glances themselves, but by the fact that they were growing less annoying and more… welcome, and she wasn't going to dwell on the matter further.

She wasn't going to dwell on the fact that he always seemed to have a smile when he saw her, or that she couldn't help smiling when she saw him. She wasn't going to dwell on how much time she spent looking for him, even when Phil was at her side, and especially when she wasn't. And she certainly wasn't going to dwell on the two days where Gilbert had been out with a fever of his own in the fourth week and she'd been irritable and restless and entirely too relieved to see him again when he was feeling better. 

That week, something changed.

* * *

_ (It was the week Anne hailed him for the first time.) _

"Gilbert!" Anne waved him over.

"Hello, Anne. I thought Phil was going to be joining us?"

_ (It was the week Anne encouraged Phil to head home and not wait for her.) _

"She had some studying to do," Anne explained.

_(Phil had all too happily complied.)_

Gilbert looked at the sky. "You should hurry home, too. It looks like it might rain."

"I carry an umbrella." Anne turned to display the item.

Gilbert gave her a half-smile. " _I_ should hurry home, then. I don't have one with me."

_ (It was the week Anne made her offer.) _

"I-I'll come with you. I-in case the rain starts." Anne bit her lip.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "…Are you asking to walk with me?"

Breathless with hope, Anne answered, "I'm offering, yes."

_ (It was the week everything changed.) _

Gilbert's grin was practically as helpless as Anne's. "I accept."

* * *

It had not rained, as it turned out. Anne was grateful—her umbrella certainly wasn't going to actually cover two students and their books, and making do as best they could would have left them rather cozy, but, as the autumn rains had well and truly begun, Gilbert brought his own umbrella from then on.

Phil joined them less often than not, not that they particularly noticed unless they were going to invite her to walk with them, only to find she'd already disappeared, off with one friend or another.

It was in the sixth week of term that Gilbert asked Anne to take a walk with him to the botanical gardens that weekend. "I know there aren't many flowers this time of year, but the leaves are pretty spectacular."

Anne had readily agreed, but upon getting back to the boardinghouse and trying casually slip it into conversation with Phil, she was met with a whoop of joy that had her rethinking her choice just a bit. "I knew it! Anne, you have to write Diana _immediately_. Actually, you know what? I'll spring for a telegram. This can't wait!"

"Phil, it's a _walk_. Nothing we haven't done before."

"Until he pulls you behind a tree and—"

"Philippa Gordon, don't you _dare_ complete that sentence!" Anne cried, her face going red.

Phil laughed. "Nor, I take it, should I suggest the idea to him?"

Anne's only response was to throw a pillow at Phil before diving onto her bed and burying her burning scarlet face in the cover.

Eventually, she did as instructed and wrote Diana.

She didn't sleep well that night, but thankfully had only one class the next day, and they'd be taking their walk the day after.

Little did any of them know what that day would bring.

* * *

Saturday brought a short note from Diana that Anne had to laugh at. Diana's normally neat handwriting was nearly a haphazard scrawl, excited and anxious—possibly more than Anne herself was!

Phil, too, was buzzing. She insisted on setting Anne's hair in a style that would hold up to the mid autumn elements while still looking "utterly romantic". Anne had to agree—the style was very becoming.

The day was, thankfully, turning out to be gloriously mild. There was the usual ocean breezes and mist, but that wasn't anything Anne was unaccustomed to. She'd insisted on meeting at the botanical garden, and Gilbert hadn't pushed back, as it was between their lodgings. He'd looked a little deflated, but he'd seemed determined to make the best of it, and soon, they were happily talking about how the garden looked compared to the trees in Alberta and PEI. Gilbert asked after some of his old haunts, including the pond where the Avonlea boys often went to skate in the winter.

Anne asked how the skating compared in Alberta, (about the same, but there was a bit less snow) and Gilbert plucked up the courage to ask if Miss Cuthbert still made those plum puffs (she did, and when they went home for Christmas, Anne was going to ask Marilla to make them so that Anne could bring some over).

Gilbert was just asking after Matthew's health when a voice behind them called Anne's name. They turned to find Roy Gardner standing there, looking as unruffled as he usually did, but there was something a little different about his demeanor today that had Anne straightening her back and squaring her shoulders as Roy walked up to them.

"I thought I might find you here!" Gilbert's presence couldn't have not registered, but Roy's focus was unnervingly solely on Anne. "Phil mentioned something about you thinking you'd come here this weekend if the weather was good for it, and I must say that you made an excellent choice. Someone really ought to paint you against the autumn foliage. I haven't the talent, but perhaps I could do so with words. Or—" Roy's grin widened. "—I could commission a painting! I'm sure someone in the area has the talent—"

Anne couldn't take it anymore. She cut him off. "Mister Gardner, it cannot have escaped your notice that I am enjoying my walk with—"

"With a friend, yes, I see." Roy didn't give Gilbert so much as a second glance. "Well, I was hoping I could accompany you today, but I'll settle for next Saturday if the weather holds. We can discuss it this week. Good afternoon." As quickly as Roy had come, he was gone, leaving Anne and Gilbert stunned and furious in his wake.

Anne turned to her companion. "Gilbert, I'm so sorry; I didn't know that Phil told Roy…" She trailed off helplessly.

"I know." Gilbert's tone was an equal blend of fury and resignation. "Gardner's poor manners aren't your fault."

"'Poor manners' is a generous way of putting it," Anne opined. "I was going to say gauche, arrogant pomposity."

Gilbert's expression softened a little. "Well, we already knew your way with words was better."

Anne sighed. "I just wish I'd said to to his face while he was here."

"He clearly wasn't going to listen," Gilbert reminded her. "Maybe if I'd said something, it would have surprised him."

"It's not your fight," Anne said quickly.

Gilbert looked very much like he disagreed, but instead suggested, "Let's not let should-haves spoil this. Instead, I am _very_ interested to know: as you were Avonlea's schoolteacher for a year, I take that to mean that Mr. Phillips has since moved on?"

Anne nodded and explained Mr. Phillips's departure briefly before launching into how wonderful Miss Stacy had been, especially with the newspaper, and how sad Anne had been to see her leave, but how it was clear that conservative small-town life was taking its toll on her.

Try though they might to dispel it, however, Roy's intrusion had cast a pall over the outing. Anne apologized profusely as they parted, only for Gilbert to assure her that she did nothing wrong and he was not upset with her. Anne promised she'd tell Phil to please refrain from discussing Anne's plans with Roy, but that seemed only to frustrate Gilbert a little more.

Anne thought's roiled on the walk home. Surely this wasn't Phil's fault, either, but really, what could she do? She had to think of something.

She just hoped she could come up with a plan before it really cost her.

* * *

Anne wasn't sure what to talk about first, but she couldn't help half-returning Phil's expectant grin as she entered their room. Before, she could so much as open her mouth, however...

"Anne, you've a caller!" Mrs. Kaye, the boardinghouse owner called.

Was it Gilbert? Why would he be back so soon? Had Anne somehow dropped something? Or did he intend to...?

Phil excitedly waved Anne out of the room, and Anne had to stop from sprinting down the stairs and flinging the door open, just barely succeeding until she saw her caller.

It was Roy. A pit formed in Anne's stomach. It was bad enough that he'd intruded on their walk, but now he was asking to speak to her again?

"Ah, Anne, it's so good to see you again." Roy smiled as though nothing in the world could possibly be wrong.

"It's a shame I can't say the same," Anne said darkly, furious that Roy would address her so casually. Now she was sure his intervention had been contrived.

Roy's smile faltered just a bit. "Anne, my dear, has something happened? If something's upset you, just say the word and I'll make it right! In fact, I came here to see if you wanted to take a walk with me right now instead of next week!"

Anne took a deep breath and did her best to remain calm. "Mister Gardner, let me be perfectly clear: I do _not_ appreciate that you interrupted my walk, I do _not_ appreciate that you insulted my friend by doing so, and I am utterly _disgusted_ by your continued assumption that I would consent to marrying you, let alone being courted by you, on the mere basis that you have money and would encourage my passions. Quite frankly, I don't think you _would_ encourage my passions because you don't know the first thing about me. If you had even bothered to try at all, you'd know that, well, you should have tried to get to know me _as Gilbert Blythe has_ , rather than trying to impress me with wealth and poetry. You don't know me, and I don't know you. There's no basis for so much as a friendship between us as of now, and I don't _want_ there to be one." Anne let that sink in before continuing a little more softly, "However, I don't want to be enemies, either. I will be civil to you. Perhaps in time, I will be cordial to you. But I will not brook the mistreatment of those I hold dear, and I will not tolerate attempts at wooing that I have not explicitly invited."

After a moment, Roy nodded. "I see," he said weakly. "I wish your opinion of me were different, and I will endeavor to earn my way back into your good graces, but for now, I will respect your wishes. Good day, Anne." Roy walked away.

Anne barely made it back into the house before her legs started to give out. She half-collapsed onto a sofa in the parlor, where her housemates Jenny and Iona sat working on essays. The pair seemed to ignore her for a few minutes, but then, Anne started hearing half-whispered bits of conversation.

"...thinks she's too good for Roy Gardner..."

"...not a smart match, anyway…"

Could this day get worse? Anne fled to her room, half-forgetting that Phil was still waiting.

"So, tell me everyth—Anne? What's the matter?" Phil walked over to Anne's bed and sat, holding Anne's hand as Anne began to cry.

Through tears, Anne explained the last couple hours: Roy's arrogance in deciding to interrupt the outing to begin with, his complete dismissal of Gilbert, his effectively having commanded an outing with Anne, his acting like he'd done nothing wrong, and finally, his parting words indicating that perhaps he wasn't yet done trying.

Phil's expression went from shocked to stony to ashen. "Anne… I'm so sorry. I knew that… that he was interested, but I thought that mentioning your outing would discourage him. I never imagined…"

"That's because you're a reasonable person, Phil," Anne half-laughed, half-sobbed.

"Only some of the time," Phil sighed. "Well, it seems Roy Gardner has leapt straight from being an entertaining if occasionally asinine friend to the top of my list of less-than-friendly men of acquaintance."

Anne shook her head. "You don't need to—it doesn't matter."

Phil squeezed Anne's hand. "It matters to me. He treated you poorly, and he wasn't pleasant to Gilbert, either. Roy will just have to find some other audience for his frankly uninspired and rather trite poetry." She thought for a moment. "Perhaps it's time for Diana to come for another visit. You need something to distract you—to lift your spirits. We could get Jenny and Iona to join us for cards tonight!"

Anne bit her lip. "I don't think they'd be too keen. They were downstairs. They heard everything. And they certainly don't agree with my opinion of Roy."

Phil released Anne's hand and strode out of the room for several minutes. She returned, refreshed and triumphant. "Well, they'll be out of your hair. I reminded Jenny that she turned down a suitor for not caring about her the way he ought to have, and not a month ago, Iona was saying that none of her friends who'd married wealthy men were truly happy. If they still want Roy, they're welcome to him, but they won't cause problems for you."

Anne sat up and smiled. "You're a wonderful friend, Phil. I hope I can repay you someday."

Phil blushed. "Don't worry one bit about that. You'd do the same for me. Now, go write Diana and convince her to come next weekend, and we'll have a grand time with no mention of Roy. Gilbert, however…"

Anne sighed ruefully, but when she moved to her desk to do as Phil bid, it was with a genuine, soft smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest chapter thus far. There was a lot to write, as it marks a bit of a turning point in Anne's willingness to acknowledge her feelings.  
> But of course, she's not quite done with that yet.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided that Phil has an older brother she's close with and they're of a similar disposition.

Diana had been utterly dismayed to read of Roy's treatment of Anne and Gilbert, both for interrupting the outing and for distressing Anne.

_When I mentioned to Aunt Jo that if the Gardners ever come to Charlottetown, I'd quite like to get out word of what he's like, but Aunt Jo pointed out that he seems all too willing to do that, himself, and that he will eventually be his own ruin. (She also commends you on your handling of the situation. I know you said you weren't proud of falling to pieces afterward, but we all think it more than understandable.)_

_Anyway, I'd be delighted to visit next weekend! It sounds like you could use a little distraction before the final few weeks of the term. Truth be told, I need a bit of a break, as well…_

* * *

"Diana!"

"Anne!" Diana dashed up and wrapped her arms around Anne, embracing her tightly. When she pulled back, she looked around. "Is Phil not here?"

Anne shook her head. "She said she wishes she could be, but her older brother is in town. She'll be back after supper. In the meantime—" She pulled Diana's arm through hers. "—you can inform me of all the latest Charlottetown gossip, while I lose to you at cards. It will be highly diverting."

Diana laughed. "Well then, we'd best get going!"

* * *

"My darlings, I've returned!" Phil sang as she waltzed into the room. "Roger says to pass along his best wishes. Yes, I know he doesn't know you, but we are of a similar spirit, and so any friend of mine is a friend of his. He also sends…" She closed the door behind her and slyly pulled a bottle out of her basket. " _This._ I'm sure we'll be in for quite a night." She handed it to Anne, who clapped a hand over her mouth. 

"Phil, if Mrs. Kaye catches us—"

"It's _currant wine_ , Anne. What's so funny?" Phil wanted to know as Diana and Anne both collapsed into silent laughter. 

"We've… had experience," Diana answered delicately. "Anne invited me for tea—"

"Marilla said I could serve raspberry cordial—"

"—but instead Anne grabbed the currant wine by mistake—"

"—we were thirteen and drunk as anything!"

"It was the first time my mother attempted to forbid our friendship after branding Anne a poor influence." Diana's expression had grown pensive.

Anne had stopped laughing abruptly. Both she and Diana looked at Phil, who thought for a moment, then, with a carefree grin, reasoned, "Well, there are three of us this time, and we're older and wiser, so we can pace ourselves, and Diana's mother isn't here to remark upon poor breeding, so…"

Anne beamed. "Sit! I'll deal the cards."

"What are we playing?" Phil wanted to know. 

"Three-handed whist?" Diana suggested.

Phil scoffed. "Ladies, if we are to _truly_ be in for a night of debasement and debauchery, then I've no choice but to teach you poker!" She uncorked the bottle and took a swig before passing it to Diana, who took her own long drink. Anne handed the shuffled cards to Phil as she took the bottle from Diana and drank from it, already feeling warm for the company, and knowing she'd feel lighter still as the night wore on. 

* * *

As they'd been more measured about how long they took between drinks, and the bottle was admittedly rather small, none of them had gotten too drunk. Before long, they were only half-concentrating on playing cards at all, let alone properly. True to Phil's word, she didn't discuss Roy, and shook her head the one time Diana attempted to broach the issue, but that didn't stop the subject of Gilbert from coming up at all. Anne blushingly denied that things had progressed, but between the wine and the embarrassment, Phil and Diana insisted that her flushed cheeks told a very different story. 

Anne finally managed to get the subject turned a bit. They meandered through the past, telling each other about various stories from their schoolhouse years. Diana informed Phil about all of the escapades Anne had gone on, highlighting the Charlottetown caper to save Miss Stacy's job. Phil gasped and laughed and sighed all the way through. ("If only my schoolhouse years had been so adventurous! And Miss Stacy sounds like a spectacular educator—no wonder you thought about teaching!") 

Anne had bowed out earlier than Phil and Diana, and so when Anne penned a short note and slipped out for a walk the following next morning, hoping the fresh, brisk air would alleviate the slight pounding in her head, she had to smile at Phil and Diana tucked into Phil's bed. One of Phil's arms was flung across Diana's stomach, and one of Diana's arched over Phil's head. It was sweet, and while Anne couldn't help still feeling a little melancholy that Diana had chosen to stay up, she certainly couldn't begrudge a friendship between two of her friends. 

Unfortunately, her mood only proved to sour on her walk. _I should have had more water before I left the house._

She wandered to campus, and sat on a bench in the quad for a few moments, the stiff wind doing more to numb her nose than to act as a cool compress. Anne closed her eyes and dug the heels of her hands into them. There was a mist picking up. She really should go find shelter, but she didn't want to open her eyes… 

"Anne?"

Well, now she had to open them.

Gilbert crouched in front of her. "Is everything alright?"

Anne's cheeks were burning. She nodded. "It's just a headache. I thought I'd take a walk to see if the fresh air helped, but I think I need water instead. I was about to head back to the boardinghouse."

"Here, come with me to the library. I was going to study today, so I packed a lunch. I've got some water with me." Gilbert took Anne's elbow, and Anne automatically allowed herself to be helped to stand, but she stepped away as quickly as she could once she was on her feet.

"Gilbert, I'm fine, really, I don't need… this isn't… I don't want your help!" Anne winced. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Well, did you mean it?" Gilbert asked, just a little bit of an edge to his voice.

Anne shook her head slowly. "No," she admitted quietly. "I'm just…" _I'm just used to having to take care of myself because for so long, that was how I survived, and I've often feared it's how I'll need to live the rest of my life._ She couldn't say it, but for once, she was hoping that her expression belied at least some of her thoughts. 

The tension in Gilbert's voice vanished, replaced with compassion that nearly made Anne weep (though she did her utmost to attribute that to the headache). "Come on. Let's at least get you inside." 

They were under the overhang of the library when they stopped, and Gilbert handed Anne the bottle of water from his lunch. Anne took it with a grateful nod and took several long gulps. The pounding didn't clear completely, but it abated at least a little.

"So, do you really think I don't recognize a hangover when I see one?"

Anne didn't reply, but she knew the blush on her cheeks as she handed the water back confirmed it.

There was a smile in Gilbert's voice when he admitted, "I should disapprove, but I know from experience that that doesn't really stack well on top of a headache. And anyway, unless I'm really off the mark, this isn't a common occurrence for you."

Anne nodded slowly. "You'd be correct. Marilla would have my head if she knew, never mind my landlady."

Gilbert nodded sagely. "I try to tell the truth, but when it comes to this, all my dad gets from me is 'ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies'."

Anne had to laugh. "Really? _You?_ To hear Diana and Phil tell it, you're a paragon of virtue!"

"I'm not a lush either, Anne—there's a middle ground!" Gilbert rolled his eyes.

Still laughing, Anne agreed, "You're not a lush; just a young man who lives with what—a half dozen others all encouraging each other's poor decisions?"

"Needs must." Gilbert's look turned curious. "So, what was the occasion?"

Anne froze. Though they hadn't really talked about it, it _had_ started as a distraction from Roy's egregious behavior. In fact, true to Phil's word, she'd only mentioned Gilbert… Anne shook her head. "Phil's brother. He was visiting, and apparently, he decided she needed some currant wine." Anne shrugged. "And Diana is visiting for the weekend," she added, not that that made the situation make any more sense.

Gilbert chuckled. "Phil… I might have guessed. Diana, not so much, but I guess that's my own baseless assumption."

"So you think Phil and I are no better than we ought to be?" Anne teased.

Gilbert shook his head, choosing to answer sincerely, though his initial smile told her he'd understood that she wasn't being serious. "No; I just remember Diana seeming very… above it all back in Avonlea. I guess a lot has changed." His assumption that Anne was the catalyst for this change went unspoken.

"Well, you'll be able to judge for yourself in a couple weeks." Anne realized she was looking forward to it, and she sounded like it.

From the look Gilbert was giving her, he'd noticed it, too. He seemed to be trying to figure out what to say. Anne licked her lips nervously and said, "Speaking of exams—well, sort of, in a roundabout way, anyway—I-I should let you get back to your studying."

Gilbert blinked. That hadn't been what he was expecting. "You're always welcome to join me."

Anne could practically hear the _please stay_ behind those words. She brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't have any of my books or notes, and I really need to get something to eat and drink. That isn't yours, I mean," she added quickly.

"Well, I practically live here during reading week, so the offer stands."

"I will probably take you up on it, if only to see these contortions Phil keeps telling me you arrange yourself in," Anne half-joked.

Gilbert rolled his eyes with a laugh. "She exaggerates… but only a little bit," he admitted. His expression grew serious. "Get home safely."

Anne frowned a little. Was it concern for her health, or had Phil mentioned Roy showing up? She'd promised not to meddle, but if she had, it would have been out of the goodness of her heart. Perhaps she'd apologized… the throbbing in Anne's head was starting again, and she took a deep breath. "I will," she promised. She almost told him he was free to stop by if he didn't believe her, but instead, she merely bid him a good day and departed.

She couldn't be sure, since turning her head too quickly still left her a little dizzy, but she thought that she could still see him waiting until she turned the corner out of sight

* * *

Anne hoped Diana and Phil weren't too worried. Anne knew it had to be later than she'd thought it would be when she returned, and after getting water, nicked three rolls from the kitchen just in case the her friends hadn't eaten.

As she arrived outside her door, she heard fond giggling that reminded her of days past… mostly. There was something different about it, though. There was a tenderness to it that wasn't necessarily that of close friendship.

The idea gave Anne a little bit of pause. She couldn't claim to be the most experienced in matters of the heart, but they certainly changed the dynamics of friendships. To fall in love with a friend was already a dangerous proposition, but to have one's friends fall in love, knowing that it might not last or that it might be impossible… Anne heaved a sigh. She'd discuss it with Diana. Though Phil was easy to talk with, and though she jokingly flirted with ease among friends, she was surprisingly tight-lipped about anything seriously romantic. It occurred to Anne that perhaps Phil thought Anne might judge her, but at least Diana would know Anne's views on the matter were friendly…

She ought not get too far ahead of herself. Maybe she was mistaken.

Anne tapped gently on the door. "It's me," she said softly.

Phil opened the door. Her hair was down, and Anne couldn't help but think that she wouldn't blame _anyone_ for falling for Phil when she was looking like this. "Morning, Phil."

Phil raised an eyebrow. "That's the tone of someone who's had an adventure."

Anne sighed. "You think my life is far more exciting than it really is."

"Well, I have to live vicariously through someone, don't I?" Phil ushered Anne in, closing the door and gratefully taking a roll.

"Oh, Anne, you're an _angel_ ," Diana murmured as she bit into her roll. "Phil brought us some tea, but my stomach needs something solid to settle it. I prepared yours and hoped it wouldn't be too cool by the time you got back."

Anne shrugged. "My walk kept me plenty warm. If my tea is cool, it'll just be refreshing."

"So your walk kept you warm, did it?" Mischief was all over Phil's face.

Deciding to see just how much Phil really thought she knew, Anne nodded before casually explaining (though she did have to hurry before the heat rose too quickly to her cheeks), "Yes, well, I had to walk briskly to make it on to my secret rendezvous. Even Gilbert Blythe's patience has its limits."

Diana sputtered into her tea, and Phil nearly choked on the bite of roll she'd just taken.

"Y-you _what?!_ " Phil coughed. "Anne, you little minx! I didn't actually think that you—"

"I didn't," Anne said quickly.

"Anne!" groaned Diana. "Don't tease us like that!"

" _I_ shouldn't tease _you?!_ " Anne laughed quietly. "That hardly seems fair!" She sat down on her bed. "I really did go for a walk, and I _happened_ to run into Gilbert. More precisely, he found me practically writhing in agony on the quad because I hadn't had enough water and my headache had only gotten worse. It was the farthest thing from romantic, I assure you both."

Phil let out an unladlylike scoff. "Someone taking care of you in the most tender way? What could be more romantic? I'll bet he offered to walk you home!"

Anne wasn't sure he wouldn't have if she'd hinted, but at least for now, she was able to truthfully say, "And you'd be wrong. He was on his way to the library to study, and I left him on campus."

Diana let out another exasperated noise. "Anne, you are _hopeless._ "

"I'm really not looking to start courting, is all. It's the end of the term, and we both have exams coming up. If… if things are the same after the break, then _maybe_ I'll consider it," Anne told her friends. 

"Well, you are both spending the break in Avonlea…" Phil crossed her arms in thought. "I'm satisfied."

Anne rolled her eyes again. "I'm _so_ pleased." She looked at the clock. "We do need to get Diana ready. Come on, Di; let's get your hair done." 

"I'm taking it out as soon as I get home," Diana pouted. "I can't stand the pins or the weight of my hair like this. Maybe I should just plait it."

"Certainly what I plan on doing, since I'm not going anywhere. Except to see you to the station with Anne, of course," Phil amended before suggesting, "Here, let's just do a quick tuck. Simple, elegant, and minimal pins."

As Anne watched Phil help Diana with her hair, and then Diana as she plaited Phil's, she knew she had to talk with Diana. She could clearly see what Phil had said about the romance of caretaking earlier. At the very least, her friends should know that they didn't have to hide around Anne.

She was in a pensive mood long after she and Phil had delivered Diana to the station. Phil, too, seemed contemplative, and Anne wanted so badly to ask her what was on her mind, or to simply say something that put her at ease.

Phil's admonition from the start of the term echoed around in her head. _"If… if there's a chance for true, mutual,_ loving _happiness, you owe it to yourself to take it."_

Perhaps it was time to start taking it seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not sure if anyone's going to ask, but yes, Anne's comment about not blaming anyone falling for Phil does have implications. My take on Anne in this particular story is that while she's seen that Jo and Gertie had a romantic relationship, she also thinks that true friendships in general are just a bit romantic (not necessarily sexual, although the thought's probably crept in there a few times, but definitely soft and tender), and thus she hasn't really explored the thought much for herself because she's also just had thoughts like this long enough that they're normal.
> 
> ...Yes, that is straight out of my own experience. Took me a while to realize that, oh hey, I might actually not be attracted only to guys!


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, this one's pretty much all fluff. Most of the rest of it is, but this chapter in particular.

Exams had somehow managed to both drag on and fly by at the same time.

Anne had spent a few days in the library with Gilbert. Phil had stayed around for a few hours on one of them, but had begged off quickly and later declared the atmosphere "suffocating" (earning an increasingly frequent eyeroll from Anne) when asked.

At least Phil couldn't go on about the train ride—Anne knew for a fact they were going home on different days. Naturally, when Anne had mentioned this in response to Phil's gentle teasing, she was met with a "well, plans _do_ change…" and a quick up-down of Phil's eyebrows.

Anne hadn't mentioned any of this to Gilbert. Very few subjects were off-limits, but Phil's teasing was one of them. (She had woken during exams week half-terrified from a dream wherein Phil had been teasing Gilbert while Anne was right there— _and Gilbert hadn't been bothered!_ Thankfully, she hadn't had an exam the following day, as she laid awake for the next few hours wondering if the dream could be prophetic.) He didn't seem the type to be pressured into any level of relationship he wasn't already interested in pursuing, or to be dissuaded by friendly teasing, but things had been curiously tenuous since that day in the botanical gardens, and she still wasn't entirely sure what she wanted, herself!

_But how else to get to know at this point?_

Anne wasn't sure she was quite ready to acknowledge the answer. Instead, she spent her first few days back in Avonlea cooking and cleaning and catching up. For as much as writing was her element and for as many letters as she'd written home, having hours to just talk, whether while baking or doing chores or sitting by the fire, was really something she'd missed. She talked with Phil, of course, but being around her parents—around some of the first people to truly accept her—was quite different. So different, in fact, that Anne had cried herself to sleep the first night, happy to be home, and sad that, even though everyone agreed it was the only correct choice, she'd have to leave again in a few weeks. Travel between Avonlea and Charlottetown was much easier than Avonlea and Kingsport!

Still, it didn't take long for conversation to turn to the Blythes after that. Anne had heard the name mentioned on and off all of last year, but Gilbert hadn't come home for the summer, instead electing to work and sending money home to his father to hire what help they could with getting the orchard back in order. But when Anne mentioned meeting Gilbert, something must have changed, because both Cuthberts raised their eyebrows, clearly sensing _something._

And so it was that Anne found herself making Marilla's plum puffs, when Marilla had barely started before realizing "I have mending I forgot about" and scuttling off. Anne wanted to ask if this had anything to do with mentioning taking some to Gilbert, but she knew the answer.

With a sigh—and a grin she couldn't quite hide—Anne got back to work.

* * *

They weren't Marilla's prize-winners, Anne knew, but they certainly weren't bad, either.

Still, as she cleaned up after packing the pastries into the basket, Anne couldn't help feeling a bit nervy. It made no sense. Marilla baked for others all the time—that was just what one did in a community like Avonlea! But this felt different somehow. It shouldn't ( _Shouldn't it, though?_ a voice somewhere between Phil's and Diana's chirped in the back of her head), but it did. 

She'd just finished wiping down the table when a knock sounded at the door. Anne turned to look, blessing the work she'd just been doing for explaining the rising flush in her cheeks when she saw Gilbert there. 

"Been doing some baking, I see?" he asked when Anne answered the door.

Anne nodded. "Marilla was making plum puffs, but, ah, had to take care of an urgent errand, so I finished them up. They're not quite as good as hers, but…" She went over to grab one and held it out to Gilbert, who had removed his gloves to take it, looking at him expectantly as he took a bite. 

"It's been too long," was his quietly contented verdict. "They're really wonderful, Anne." 

Anne smoothed down her apron. "I'm glad you think so." She turned and grabbed the basket. "Because the rest are going with you. Well, I've held back two—I hope you don't mind."

Gilbert laughed. "Ah, yes. I get to eat something better than anything my dad or I can make for the next few days. So disappointing." He sobered. "I… actually came to ask if you'd like to go on a walk."

Anne took a deep breath. "Well, seeing as I was going to bring these to you, I'd be happy to accompany you on your walk home."

"You may want to get that flour off your face first," Gilbert murmured. 

Anne swallowed a squeak and finished removing her apron to pat her face with it. The look Gilbert gave her told her it was still there, and for just a moment, she wondered if he was going to reach out and brush it away himself. She was almost dismayed when he instead informed her that it was on her right cheek, and it was mostly gone, anyway. She quickly scrubbed her sleeve across the spot, and went to put on her hat, scarf, and gloves. 

"I'm going for a walk! I'll be back in a bit!" Anne called from the bottom of the stairs as she pulled on her coat. She turned to Gilbert, and excitement flared up inside her as she gestured toward the door. "Shall we?"

Gilbert opened the door for her, and the pair set off.

* * *

They'd reached the Blythe house very quickly. Well, perhaps it just felt quick, but they were having such a good conversation that Anne suggested the plum puffs be dropped off and that they keep going. Gilbert had not argued.

Anne filled Gilbert in as he asked about the various fates of his schoolmates. She glossed a bit over Charlie, not quite able to bring herself to talk about their shared history just yet. However, there was one good piece of news Anne had learned earlier that week. "Well, of all the coincidences, you'll be happy to know that Roy has now decided his future lies with Jane Andrews," Anne informed Gilbert. "So… No more interrupted walks."

Gilbert let out a harsh laugh. "I can't say I'm upset at that prospect, though I'd've liked to have told him off, and now I'm kicking myself for not having done so when I had the chance."

Anne slowed, and Gilbert did, as well. "That day, I didn't want you to say anything to him because I didn't want him to decide he was only being denied because my heart lay elsewhere, rather than because I didn't want him pursuing me in any case. It didn't matter in any event—he showed up at the boardinghouse just after I returned, which makes me think—" Anne cut herself off. She and Gilbert had both grown tense at the implication. "That was when I really had it. I told him that his presumptuous behavior was unacceptable." Anne stopped to take a steadying breath. She caught the concern in Gilbert's expression, and couldn't help smiling as she continued, "I also told him that… that _you_ were… going about winning my heart the _right_ way. At the time, it was meant to point out that there was a fundamental difference that I don't think he could ever want to grasp, but now I realize that—even though I was trying to deny it to myself then—winning my heart was precisely what you were doing. And more importantly, I've come to realize that that's what I wanted, both then… and now."

They'd stopped walking entirely.

"You mean that." It wasn't a question.

"I do." Anne's confirmation was quiet, but confident.

For a moment, they stood there, just looking at each other, twin smiles of delight and relief and affection lighting their features, then Gilbert spoke.

"So, what you're saying—" he reached out to take Anne's hands in his "—is that if I were to express the desire to court you, you'd agree?"

Anne laughed quietly. "You've asked me to walk with you several times—including today—and asked me on an outing, and all of a sudden, asking is difficult?"

"I know this is what I want, and I want you to be equally sure that this is what you want. I don't want to be careless. I don't… want to lose you," Gilbert admitted.

Anne's eyes softened as she replied in an almost-whisper, "I don't think you're capable of being careless."

They stood there for a moment, just facing each other. Gilbert had pulled Anne's hands to him, and she'd stepped forward accordingly, but even as she'd spoken, she'd started leaning just a little closer, and so had Gilbert.

A joyful shout echoed close by, bringing them back to reality. Anne bit her lip, but didn't pull her hands from Gilbert's, instead smiling when he squeezed her fingers. He released both of her hands, but Anne re-captured one of his in hers, pulling herself to his side and threading her arm through his as they continued to walk.

They were quiet for a little bit, simply exchanging shy smiles. Finally, Gilbert seemed to come to a realization. "I never did actually ask…"

"No, you didn't." Anne tilted her head expectantly.

Gilbert took a steadying breath. "Well, Anne, I'd very much like to court you. Would that be something you'd like?"

The last word was hardly out of his mouth before Anne was nodding enthusiastically. "Very much, yes."

"Good." Gilbert tightened his arm against his side, pulling Anne just a little closer. "I have to say, knowing the answer doesn't make it any easier to ask."

Anne thought for a moment. "Well, I really only made it clear today."

"True, but you wouldn't _believe_ how pushy Phil is… or maybe you would," Gilbert amended at Anne's look.

"She is my roommate, for better or for worse." Anne grinned wryly. "She's been encouraging me towards you since the day she introduced us—she and Diana _both_ have—and she hasn't been at all subtle about it."

Gilbert chuckled. "Subtlety is not a strong point of Phil's."

"What… did she say to you?" Anne's voice was quiet, and while she didn't pull her arm from Gilbert's, she let it go slack.

"She said that her new roommate was lovely and that I should get to know her—you. It was really Diana who did most of the talking. Anne, is everything alright?" Gilbert pulled them to a stop once again and turned to face Anne. Concern was clear to see on his face.

Anne's voice was now just a whispery croak. "What did _Diana_ tell you?"

"The only thing she talked about that you haven't is what happened with Charlie." Gilbert was being very careful with his words now. "She didn't go into details, but she said that things ended on particularly poor terms." He paused before continuing, "It doesn't… I don't think less of you for it, Anne."

"That's not it," Anne told him, voice quavering. "It's that… Diana… I know she meant well—I _know_ she did—but she told you… because she wanted you to know how to impress me from the start. I know that you've never been anything other than genuinely yourself to me, but if it were anyone but you…" She let out a shuddering sigh. "This is what I want, I promise. I just…"

Gilbert thought for another long moment. "That day in the botanical garden, when you stepped in to tell Roy off… it might not be the bravest thing you've done, but it was brave. You stood up for me, and you stood up for yourself. And regardless of your reasons for doing so, I can tell you that I admired that. I—I _appreciate_ you for who you are. You're kind, you're imaginative, you're ambitious, you don't let fools get away with idiocy…"

"You forgot 'intelligent'." Anne punctuated her statement with a choked laugh.

Gilbert replied with a half-grin, "I find your intelligence speaks for itself far more eloquently than I ever could."

Anne wasn't sure what to say that. Finally, she settled on "Thank you" before clearing her throat and continuing a little more teasingly, "You say that like you aren't plenty smart, yourself. It might be the one thing you're disingenuous about."

"I'm just good at studying," Gilbert insisted.

"So am I!" Anne put her arm back through Gilbert's. "You can be both!"

"And _you_ are," Gilbert agreed.

"Oh, _please_." Anne couldn't keep from rolling her eyes. "If you have no natural aptitude for any subject whatsoever, then I'm the crown princess of the Maritimes." 

Gilbert pulled Anne's gloved hand to his lips. "Your Highness."

Anne's cheeks were already wind-chapped, so her blush didn't show, but she knew he could hear the embarrassment in her voice as she murmured, "Honestly, you're positively incorrigible. It's a good thing you're particularly handsome when you smile, or I'd wonder what I see in you."

"I didn't figure you for the type to only be interested in a man's looks," taunted Gilbert.

"Yes, well, you have a terrible habit of teasing, and you proclaim no particular intelligence, and so your looks are what I'm left with." Anne grinned devilishly. "So, perhaps you might want to rethink your stance? Or… was this all just a charade to get me to compliment you?" 

"If it was, it was a poorly planned one. All I've gotten from you is that I'm handsome when I smile." The teasing smile was still there, but there was a glint of something else, too. 

"Ah, well, allow me to make up for lost time. In addition to being handsome—smiling or not, I might add—you are industrious, compassionate, entertaining, and, no matter what anyone else says, you are intelligent, because I don't think I've ever seen a more masterful extraction of praise than the one you just pulled off," Anne finished. 

Gilbert tilted his head just a bit. "But you meant it."

Anne nodded. "Every word. Just as before." 

Gilbert didn't say anything in response, but he didn't have to: his smile spoke for him, affectionate and tender and content. 

Everything just felt so… _right_ , and in a way it hadn't ever before. Anne felt like she should say something— _do_ something. One very obvious idea was repeating itself over and over in her head, but Anne wasn't sure she was quite brave enough for that yet. 

But then, maybe she didn't need to be brave. 

Maybe she just needed to mean it. 

They'd entered a copse of pines. Anne wasn't sure if it was on purpose, but it was an opportunity nonetheless. 

This time, she was the one to stop. Gilbert turned to look at her, almost confused, but whatever he saw in Anne's expression seemed to give him some measure of clarity, because when Anne leaned in, he did, too, meeting her in the middle. 

Her first thought was that it was cold. Of course, that was to be expected, being out in the snow, but that detail had gotten rather pushed aside once Anne made her decision. Not that, after a few short kisses, it was mattering all that much. Anne's hands gripped the front of Gilbert's jacket, while his gently cupped her face. The kisses were soft and light, sweet yet firm, warm and safe, and when they finally parted, it wasn't far. One of Gilbert's thumbs traced Anne's cheekbone as his other hand fell to her waist. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then pulled back to look into her eyes. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say, but Anne wasn't sure what it could be. 

"If you have to ask me whether or not I meant that…" she joked.

"I definitely don't," Gilbert laughed quietly before letting out a small sigh. "I'm just lamenting that we'll need to go back soon, if for no other reason than that it's already getting dark." 

Anne heaved a sigh, as well. "I'll be missed," she agreed, and they began their walk home. 

* * *

They were mostly quiet until they reached the border fence of Green Gables, and then Gilbert spoke. "Should I… accompany you inside?"

Anne shrugged. "If you'd like. Matthew and Marilla have long said the only permission anyone needs is mine, but it can't hurt to make a good impression. Honestly, I don't think they'll be at all surprised. Apparently, I've been talking about you a lot."

"Oh have you, now?" Gilbert was thoroughly amused. 

Anne sighed heavily. "Yes, I have, and mentioning it will _not_ leave me with a good impression, so best behavior, please." 

Gilbert put his hand over his heart. "You have my word."

"Good." They stepped onto the porch and knocked the snow from their boots. Anne looked at Gilbert and leaned up to quickly kiss his cheek before giving him a smile and opening the door. "I'm home!" she called, utterly beaming as she continued, "And I've brought company!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can clearly see, I do NOT subscribe to the theory that getting together should be the end of the story, nor does it need to be hugely dramatic, nor should it necessarily have to take a long time. They will grow together as a couple from here on out.
> 
> That's it; that's the plot.
> 
> As always, comments are welcome and appreciated.
> 
> Also, next chapter may be more delayed than usual. I seem to have aggravated my carpal tunnel, and typing is therefore not really a good thing for me to do right now. *sigh*...


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cats, this last week has just been kind of a low-grade disaster for me IRL. I'm amazed this chapter is done. It might be a little weird and disjointed, but eh, I stand by it because this is a "it's past my bedtime and I am no longer capable of caring how much sense this makes" chapter.

"I'm not sure about this." Phil paced in front of her armoire. "I'm... not sure I'll _belong_. I _like_ balls, of course, but..." she trailed off. 

"If I belong, then so do you," Anne informed her. "It's not a ball in the typical sense, and it's certainly not a marriage market. All sorts of interesting people are there. You dance with friends and strangers—man or woman, it makes no difference, and it means something only if you want it to. Please, Phil. Diana _wants_ you there, or she wouldn't have asked invited you!"

Aunt Jo's summer soiree was the following weekend. She'd sent invitations to Anne and Phil (whom Anne noted was corresponding with Diana with some regularity since before Christmas), and had all but commanded Anne to bring Gilbert. Gilbert, of course, had been happy to oblige, assuring Anne that whether it was a typical ball or an unusual soiree or a quiet evening in, all he cared about was that he was spending that time with Anne. 

Now was not the time to mull over Anne's love life, however. "Phil…" Anne placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. "What's really got you so distressed? Whatever it is, I want to help." 

Phil sat down heavily on her bed, and Anne sat beside her, taking her hand. "Anne… " Phil's voice shook. "I… don't think that it's… escaped your notice… I don't actually—as much as I say things—as much as it appears… I've…" Phil let out a shuddering sigh. "I've _tried_ , and I've thought about it, and every time, it's always the same. And now this… it feels like I'm being asked for a declaration. And I want so, so desperately to make it, but if I do, I can't take it back." She took a few deep breaths. "I… the way you've said you feel for Gilbert… I feel that way about Diana." 

" _Phil._ " Anne embraced her. "It's about time. I mean, I hoped you'd feel comfortable telling me someday, of course, but…" 

Phil sobbed out a laugh. "I suppose you would have figured it out."

"Diana's my bosom friend and you're my roommate." Anne cracked a grin as she pulled away, but she sobered quickly. "Diana… knows, I imagine? I mean, it's pretty clear to me that she feels the same way…" She bit her lip, hoping she hadn't said more than she'd ought. If Diana somehow hadn't said anything, with a matter so delicate, it certainly wasn't Anne's place to do so. 

Phil nodded. She hadn't actually shed tears, but her eyes were rimmed with red as though she had. "I just don't know. She's said that her aunt would understand. That nobody there would judge me. But even if they don't…"

Anne nodded and knit her hands in her lap. "You're expected to live life a certain way." She sighed. "Have you and Diana talked about this?"

Phil shrugged. "I don't want to pressure her. But now, I feel pressured to give an answer, and I'm not sure I'm prepared. I just want to revel in these feelings and explore them. The only other girl who's returned my feelings—We were still so young and she was convinced her family would find out. Of course her fears were completely reasonable, but it still hurt…" 

"Of course it did!" Anne squeezed Phil's shoulders. She wasn't sure if she should mention the conversation she'd had with Diana at the end of winter break when Anne had stopped in Charlottetown for the night on the way back to Kingsport. 

* * *

_"I want to invite Phil."_

_Anne looked up. "Why shouldn't you? I'm sure she'd love it!"_

_Diana gave Anne a weary stare. "Anne, you're… observant. I think you've seen enough to know that I don't mean to extend her invitation as a friend."_

_"I…" Anne was at a bit of a loss for words. Finally, she sighed. "I was going to let you tell me in your own time."_

_"Well, this is it." Diana tilted her head. "Do you disapprove?"_

_"No! Absolutely not!" Anne shook her head. "I'm just a little surprised, is all. Or I was, anyway. Though I suppose one can like men as well as women—"_

_Diana cut Anne's babbling off. "I meant because she's your_ friend _, Anne." She grinned wryly before continuing, "One doesn't express a lack of acceptance regarding another's romantic preferences and get invited back to this house."_

_Anne laughed, bit embarrassed. "No, I suppose not." She held her hand out to Diana, who took it. They were quiet for a while, and then Diana spoke again._

_"I didn't think… I mean, men are fine as far as the lighter aspects of romance go, but regarding… certain feelings, I've really only ever felt them for women. And now that I'm here, I'm starting to see how I could make a future work, though Cole and I have discussed… keeping up appearances, but that wouldn't be fair to either of us, and anyway, my parents would never be happy with that, even if Aunt Jo leaves everything to him." She sighed heavily. "Sometimes, I think it'd be easier living in a boardinghouse. Nobody bats an eye when you want to have a private moment with a friend. And if you're too busy for romance, of course there's gossip, but others are busy, too…" Diana bit her lip before admitting quietly, "and at the end of the day, sometimes, it's just easier to buy silence."_

_"Oh, Di…" Anne stood, pulled Diana to her feet, and gave her a tight hug. She murmured into her friend's hair, "I wish I had more advice, but beyond telling you to talk with Phil, all I can do is promise to be there for you."_

_"I know," Diana assured her. "And I appreciate it, Anne."_

_Books hadn't prepared Anne for this particular kind of potentially tragical romance, but at least the help she could give for now seemed to be the same._

* * *

"Diana said in her latest letter that she wanted to talk with me there, and I suppose some things are better said in person, and travel back and forth has been difficult since the start of term, but now I feel like… like there's so much to lose, and like this wonderful party could be marred by it." Phil looked out the window. "At least I can leave that morning if our talk the night before doesn't go well." 

Anne frowned. "Surely it won't come to that." Phil continued to look unconvinced, so Anne made a decision. "Especially not if she sees you in that carmine dress." Phil managed a smile, but it was still sad. Quietly, Anne told her, "I promised myself I wouldn't meddle on either side, but I will say this much: Diana's feelings are true, and she is not easily swayed. That might not make weathering external factors any easier, but it does mean that there's a chance." 

"You're very optimistic, Anne. It's something I've always appreciated about you," Phil told her sincerely.

Anne shrugged a shoulder. "I had to be." She pulled out Phil's dress to take a look at it. "And it means I will always support my friends."

Phil couldn't help grinning. "Very well. And what dress will you be wearing to impress Gilbert? Not that you need to; he'd appreciate you in no—in sackcloth just as much as he would in the richest ballgown. But I think he favors blue on you, and that does give me rather a lot to work with." She went to go look at Anne's dresses. "At least one of us is going to have an unforgettable night, I think. I hope," she corrected herself.

"It's a summer soiree." Anne grinned. "I should hope so."

* * *

"Anne!" Cole embraced Anne, who returned the hug enthusiastically. "Someone's done well for herself," he whispered in her ear. Anne gave him a look as she pulled away. He pretended not to see and instead turned to Gilbert. "Gilbert, it's been too long!" He reached out, and Gilbert shook his hand. "The coincidences that bring us back into each other's lives."

Gilbert smiled genuinely. "It's definitely been a while. I hear you're doing art now?"

As Cole and Gilbert made small talk about their respective courses of study, Anne had to smile. Gilbert hadn't needed to tell her he was a little nervous. He was social enough, but the summer soiree was different to anything else he'd experienced previously. He'd definitely been more than a little on edge when Anne had introduced him to Aunt Jo and he'd been the subject of a _very_ thoroughly appraising gaze. (Jo had smiled primly afterward and deemed him entirely welcome and suitable for Anne, but the damage had been done.) Seeing old friends was certainly helping to put him at ease.

"…hope you don't mind if I steal Anne for one dance," Cole was saying.

"I think we both know it's not me you need to ask," Gilbert told him.

Cole grinned. "Smart man." He turned to Anne. "Well, may I claim a dance with you sometime this evening?"

Anne nodded. "You may."

"Oh, good! You're all here." Diana swept up with Phil in tow. "Cole, I know you two only met briefly last night, but this is Philippa Gordon. She's Anne's roommate in Kingsport." She gestured to Cole. "Phil, this is Cole Mackenzie. We were schoolmates back in Avonlea, and, well, you've heard the story."

"Indeed, I have." Phil offered her hand to Cole. "It's very nice to formally meet you, Cole."

"The pleasure's all mine." Cole clasped and shook Phil's hand, smiling warmly before asking, "It's Phil rather than Pippa?"

Phil shuddered. "My older brother's friends used to call me 'Peep'. I've loathed being called anything resembling 'Pippa' since, and, well… _Philippa,_ " she groused.

"Fair enough." Cole nodded sagely.

Gilbert, Anne, and Diana all looked a little shocked, and Phil, seeing them, shrugged and reminded them, "None of you ever asked."

The reaction was the trio murmuring that that was fair and Phil was right as Phil barely contained a chuckle and Cole was unsuccessful at doing the same. "Well, Phil, I hope you'll save a dance for me? Diana, too."

Phil nodded and Diana smiled at Cole. "Of course!" Diana turned to Anne. "Aunt Jo sent me to fetch you for your recitation. Are yo ready?"

Anne adjusted her flower crown primly. "As I ever am."

"So, yes," Diana and Cole chorused.

Anne pursed her lips, but couldn't hide her smile as she walked off to find Aunt Jo.

* * *

"The first year I was invited to the soiree, my hair was cut short, you know," Anne told Gilbert as they danced. "That was the year I dyed it green. Well, black, which I then tried unsuccessfully to take out with laundry bluing. I hadn't quite made peace with my hair then." She paused to laugh as Gilbert spun her just for the fun of it. "I was… uneasy when I arrived. It was still very new for me to be myself and not be berated so much for it. I asked Aunt Jo how to be and what to expect, and I will never forget what she said: _You should expect a riotous good time, and you need not be anyone but simply yourself._ It was so _freeing_ to hear." She smiled contentedly. "I thought for the longest time—even after that—that I would live my life alone. Not because I didn't want for romance, but I thought romance—that true, deep, abiding love still had no place in it for me, and I certainly wasn't going to marry someone I didn't have that with."

"I take it your opinion on that has changed?" Gilbert wanted to know. He sounded light enough, but he wasn't smiling. On the contrary, he was gazing at Anne very intently, as though she was the only thing in the room, or even in the universe.

Anne swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to summon the words. The answer was so easy: of course it had! College had opened her up to a whole new world. Of course there were still men who didn't accept her for who she was, but Gilbert had, and he wasn't the only one. He was, however, the one who mattered most at the moment.

They'd practically stopped moving. Gilbert looked almost anguished now. "Anne… I—"

"May I cut in?" Cole appeared beside them so suddenly that both of them jumped. "I'm still owed a dance."

Anne looked to Gilbert. Again, she couldn't say what was so simple in her mind: that if he wanted to continue talking, she'd absolutely listen. Gilbert nodded, looking unhappy, but not defeated. "Of course."

"It's only one. I promise to deliver her safely back to you," Cole tried to joke, but he clearly sensed the gravity of the moment, as well.

Cole practically dragged her across the floor. "Cole, what are you doing?!" Anne hissed.

"I overheard your conversation. Anne, you know what he was just about to say, right?"

Anne pressed her lips into a thin line. "I might have, if you hadn't interrupted!"

"Yes, well, I didn't really want Gilbert to get his heart broken in public," Cole told her.

Anne gaped. "Broken? Cole, you can't seriously believe I'd…" She trailed off, unsure.

"It wouldn't be on purpose, but he was about to tell you he loves you. I don't think he's enough of an idiot to propose right now, especially with how much it seems you've told him, never mind the whole mess with that Gardner idiot, but I would not have been at all surprised if he'd broken into Darcy's whole _You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you_ speech, because he absolutely does. And while this probably wouldn't end quite as disastrously, you…" Cole sighed. "I know you. You need a little more time to come to grips with your feelings. I'm giving you what time I can for you to come up with an answer, but either way, I suggest you give it to him in private."

Anne's lip trembled. "I don't want to hurt him, Cole. Now I'm afraid that… that even though I didn't have a ready answer, because I couldn't tell him before you stepped in, it's happened anyway." 

"Can you tell me?" Cole wanted to know. "If you can say it to me, you can say it to him." 

Without a second thought, Anne said it, and was rewarded with a shocked stare from Cole. "I see I was wrong. Well, best let Gilbert hear it, then. As an apology, and if it'd make things easier, you can use my room." 

Anne rolled her eyes and allowed herself to be led back to Gilbert, where Cole delivered her with a flourish and a "She just couldn't stay away," to Gilbert, who managed a small smile. 

Anne took his hand, smiling encouragingly. "I think we ought to talk somewhere else." 

Gilbert allowed Anne to lead him out into a corridor and up a flight of stairs. The hallway was well enough deserted, Anne decided as she took out the pin holding her flower crown in place, and removed Gilbert's crown as well, explaining at his confused expression, "As exceedingly romantic as they are, I want this to be… as plain and simple as it should be. As though it were any other night." 

"You want _what_ to be as plain as it should be?" Gilbert's eyes were wary with hope. 

"Cole was under the rather mistaken impression that I needed more time, when really, I just needed a moment like this. A quiet moment with just the two of us to tell you that, even though it hasn't been very long at all, and even though—" her voice quavered "—even though it's a little terrifying, I think I love you." 

"Anne…" Gilbert wrapped one arm around Anne's waist and pulled her in for a kiss as his free hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in some loose ringlets. Anne threw her arms around his neck enthusiastically, pulling herself as close as possible, and it was several long moments and several deep kisses later before they pulled apart. 

"Cole really swept you away just so that you could have the distinction of saying it first?" Gilbert joked. 

Anne laughed quietly. "I promise, I will chastise him thoroughly later. For now, I just… want to hear what you were going to say." 

"Well," Gilbert began, "I want to say something reminiscent of all those literary heroes you've talked about, but the one thought that keeps repeating over and over in my head—that I keep coming back to no matter what—is that I love you." 

Anne smiled brilliantly and assured him, "Literary heroes are all well and good because they speak from the heart. The words I want are the words that come from _you_ " before stretching up onto her toes to kiss him for what would not be the last time that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, okay, I can hear the "JACK, WHAT THE HELL?! IT'S BEEN THREE MONTHS THEY'VE KNOWN EACH OTHER AND SHE LOVES HIM ALREADY?"
> 
> First: It's been four months and change, thanks very much. (Not that anyone can be expected to know my timeline other than vaguely autumn to almost spring at this point because it's not like I'm being real concrete about it.)
> 
> Second: Yes, she does. It's not the love of someone who's known their partner for years, but Anne feels things very deeply and passionately, and well, let's be honest: Gilbert, especially with as few faults as we fans are inclined to give him, is kind of tailor-made for her. And sometimes, you just mesh. I knew I loved my husband three months after we got together. (Admittedly, we'd known each other for almost a year prior, but I'd started considering him romantically only shortly before he asked me out.) I didn't know for sure that I wanted to marry him for another couple years, though. Those two feelings are separate to me, though "I want to marry you" definitely had the prequesite of "I love you". We just had to be sure we could grow as people and as a couple before we got to the marrying stage of things. So, too, will Anne and Gilbert need to make sure of that.
> 
> And for anyone wondering "Wouldn't Diana and Phil be worried about what Gilbert might think?" I wanted to shoehorn a scene in this chapter (and may yet get it into a future one) but the short answer is actually "yes, a little bit". They were more concerned with what's developing between them and the thought that there are people who _definitely_ would not approve, and Phil was going to allude to having dropped hints and not knowing whether Gilbert didn't get it or got it and was cool with it, but my take on him here is "I'm not about to judge anyone's preferences as long as nobody's getting hurt." He'd be surprised that this is happening with friends of his, and be like, "Okay, need a minute to adjust my worldview here" but in the end of it, he'd be happy for them.
> 
> Given how hectic things continue to be, I will again endeavor but not promise to have the next chapter out in a week. The chapter after that should come pretty quickly, though--it's much further along in being written.
> 
> As always, I'm happy to hear your thoughts!


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place shortly after Easter. Another chapter of pure, unadulterated, decidedly T-rated fluff.
> 
> This chapter was formatted and posted while I was extremely tired, so if something doesn't make sense, let me know. I mean, I read it, and it makes sense, but that's a low bar when I'm tired.

"Well, I'm off." Anne stood and grabbed her clutch.

"Ah, yes, for this secret day trip you've been exceedingly vague about. If I knew you less well, I'd worry you'll return a married woman," Phil joked.

Anne rolled her eyes. "Give me credit enough to know that you'd be dragged along as witnesses. Who else would attest to the sanity of that right now?"

Diana and Phil shared a glance and, at the same time, answered, "Cole."

Anne heaved a world-weary sigh. "I'm… going to visit my parents' graves. Well, the cemetery they're buried in, anyway. Their graves are unmarked, but I found the church they attended—the one that recorded their deaths, at least."

"Oh, Anne…" Diana came over and embraced her friend. Anne hugged her back. "You're not taking the journey alone, though, are you?

Anne shook her head. "Of course not! Gilbert's accompanying me."

"…To a church." Phil couldn't resist the joke, apparently. She laughed uncomfortably. "Sorry."

"I've made my peace with never really having known them. Matthew and Marilla were able to contact the woman who took me in after their deaths, and they recovered a few possessions of theirs. It's not much, but it's more than I knew." Anne smiled wistfully. "I figure spring, when everything is starting to bloom, is as good a time as any to go see them. You girls have fun." Anne winked.

Diana bent to give Phil a mostly swift, sweet kiss that had both young women smiling as Diana pulled away. Anne grinned and gave Diana a hug as Phil stood. Diana stepped aside as Phil hugged Anne, and then Anne set off. 

* * *

It had taken them only a moment to find their bearings after getting off the train. The gathering clouds had Anne a little worried, but Gilbert, perhaps misreading her trepidation, had squeezed her hand reassuringly as they'd gotten off the train. They'd walked around to stretch their legs a little and find a place to eat, and now that that had been accomplished, they were ready to continue. 

Anne took Gilbert's arm and pointed with her free hand. "The church is over there." They set off, trying to ignore the light rain that had started. This wasn't unusual weather; life beside the water was just like this… 

"That's not promising," Anne sighed as the drops became more frequent. 

Gilbert tugged on her arm. "Over there." He pointed at a gazebo in the park they were walking past, and they changed course to head toward it, practically sprinting the last few steps as the rain grew heavier. "What a time for a squall," he grumbled.

"Is there ever a good one?" Anne joked, one side of her mouth lifting in a lopsided smile.

Gilbert huffed out a short laugh. "Fair point."

The rain continued drumming on the gazebo with no sign of letting up. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Gilbert asked after a minute.

"I suppose… I'm just in a contemplative mood today," Anne sighed. 

Gilbert gestured for her to continue. 

"What I said about it being terrifying to admit at the soiree… I know you're not Roy, and I know you're not Charlie. I couldn't not know that, and the only thing they have even remotely to do with it is that, for most of my life, particularly before I came to Avonlea but even after, I couldn't trust hope that came from anyone but me. And even then, most of the time, no matter how good things were, there was always something that went wrong eventually. Even… even Marilla wanted to send me back at first." Anne sniffled. "I know that it's just… my brain playing tricks on my heart, but that doesn't entirely make the fear go away, especially when I've come to love you so quickly. I just—" her voice broke. She took a shaky breath and whispered, "I just want it to be as simple all the time as it is when you… when I can forget." 

Gilbert took Anne's hands and pulled her into a protective hug, cradling her head against his shoulder and resting his cheek against her hair. In a low voice that Anne could feel as much as hear, he told her, "I don't know whether this will help, but I need you to know that for me, it is that simple. I love you because of who you are—because you show me who you are, even when it's difficult or painful. I don't want you to be unhappy, but I'm glad that you can tell me when you are. I might not be able to make it go away, but I can promise to be here just the same. I can hold you and I can tell you that I'm not going anywhere, and that I believe in your ability to remember that all of that is what matters. Those memories and fears may never go away, but I'm going to do what I can to make sure that they stay distant." Gilbert pulled back and tipped Anne's chin up so she could see he was sincere. "And I'm trusting you to let me do that, and to let yourself keep moving forward." 

Without a second thought, Anne rose swiftly up onto her toes and brought a hand up to pull Gilbert down to her, their lips colliding harder than Anne had meant, and she wondered if they might actually bruise. She nearly pulled back to apologize, but Gilbert wasn't letting her, and she didn't mind at all. The feeling of being held close, so warm and safe and fierce and loving, was intoxicating, and Anne let out a breathless sigh when it stopped. 

"I take that to mean you agree with me?" Gilbert murmured. Anne nodded slowly, hoping her sincerity was clear on her face. She knew it must be when Gilbert pulled her back in.

It was raining harder than ever. If Anne had noticed, she'd have been inclined to think it utterly poetic, embracing against both the storm without and the storm within. Her focus had stopped at the embrace itself: the feeling of one of Gilbert's hands at the small of her back as his other thumb caressed the curve of her cheek while the fingertips (as ever) strayed toward her hair; the feeling of his mouth against hers, only just more in control than either of their racing hearts; her hands clinging desperately to him, trying to eliminate any fraction of space between them. 

As the downpour continued, their kisses went from passionate to lingering to soft, until finally, they simply stood with their foreheads resting against each other. Neither of them really noticed when the squall finally broke until a shaft of sunlight lit up the gazebo. 

"Well, I suppose we ought to…" Anne trailed off. She wasn't any more keen on letting go than Gilbert was, it seemed. It was another few seconds before he heaved a sigh, gave her one final, tight squeeze, and stepped back. 

Anne looked out over the park where the sun glinted off the grass and the trees, still very glossy with rain. "It's such a vision," she breathed.

"You're the vision," Gilbert informed her, waiting for Anne to turn to face him before continuing, "When you're lit up by the sun like that… everything about you glows."

"You mean my hair," Anne joked nervously.

"I mean _you_ ," Gilbert corrected, pausing only slightly before admitting, "But that does include your hair, yes." He seemed to be expecting a reply. "Do you… not believe me?" 

Anne blinked and shook her head vehemently. "No! I very much believe you. I just… the way you're looking at me… It has a profound effect," she finished quietly, cheeks flaming.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow playfully. "Does it, now?" He stepped forward. "And how, exactly, am I looking at you?" 

"You're looking at me like… you're trying to memorize me. Like I'm the only thing that matters in the world." She smiled softly. "Like you love me. Like you— _somehow_ —can't quite believe I'm yours." 

"I never for one second want to forget how you look." Gilbert pressed a gentle kiss to Anne's forehead. "Because you are my world." He dropped another kiss on her temple. "Because I love you." His lips only grazed hers. "But you did get one thing wrong: it's that I can't quite believe how incredibly fortunate _I_ am to be _yours_." He took Anne's hand and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm before curling her fingers back over it. 

Stunned, Anne drew the hand to her heart. "Gil… I think…" She took one shaking breath, then another, and one more before continuing, "that we are just going to have to agree to disagree on who is lucky to be whose." 

"It's an argument I look forward to having over and over," Gilbert told her, leaning in for one last sweet, chaste (if a bit longer than was strictly proper) kiss before tucking Anne's arm through his as they set off again.

* * *

Anne stared out of the train window, admiring the way the sun once again lit up the landscape. It was sinking lower in the sky, and as the rain clouds moved out, the sun shone between them and the horizon. 

She had the feeling Gilbert was looking at her again as he had earlier. For one thing, he'd stopped reading the book he'd brought along with him a while back, and for another, she could see his faint reflection in the window.

There was only one other couple in the car, and they were seated at the opposite end, so Anne decided a little flirting couldn't hurt. "Back to memorizing me, are you?"

"After a fashion," Gilbert admitted.

Anne turned to face him, raising her eyebrows inquisitively. "Oh?" Gilbert seemed unsure whether he should say anything further. Anne took his hands. "Gilbert, I doubt there's anything you're likely to say right now that could upset me. Please."

"I was… thinking about the future." Gilbert was keeping his expression carefully guarded, but Anne could see the hope in his eyes. "I don't… I've still got five years of school left. I don't want to—to jump ahead, or to pressure you. When I met you, I didn't think… But honestly, Anne, the future I want—I've only gotten more and more certain." 

Anne swallowed the rising lump in her throat. "It's not just you," she assured him after a moment. "And I know you would never want to pressure me. I just—" She laughed quietly. "—I used to tell myself I wanted a tragical romance before I really understood how much it can hurt. After that, I decided I'd try what seemed to be the only romance that would be available to me. And then I met you, and I realized that I hadn't known just what romance could be. It's still terrifying, but it's thrilling and freeing and it's… it's what I want, too. And you've utterly ruined me for finding it with anyone else, so I suppose it'll have to be with you." She smiled. "We'll build that future one day at a time." 

The way Gilbert was looking at her was really too much. Anne wasn't sure he knew anymore how to gaze at her in any way other than adoringly, but she wasn't sure she minded. Even the thrill that went down her spine when he all but whispered, "It's the right plan, but while I'm confessing things I really ought to keep to myself, you make it extremely difficult to remember to take it one day at a time." 

"Hm." They'd been slowly leaning in, and now, Anne's lips brushed Gilbert's as she summoned the boldness to whisper, "Well, as they say, good things to those who wait." 

Naturally, the train started to brake for the next station. Anne lurched back into her seat. Gilbert settled back a little more gracefully, but Anne thought she heard a heavy sigh, and his murmur of "Waiting it is, then," confirmed it. Anne couldn't help a smile, and when she caught Gilbert's eye out of the corner of hers, she saw he was smiling, too. 

* * *

Anne hadn't much minded missing supper. She knew Phil would have smuggled bread up to their room for her if nothing else. The extra hour she'd spent walking around Kingsport with Gilbert after they'd arrived was well worth it. 

They'd spent most of it talking, but toward the end, they'd managed to creep inside the hedge surrounding Anne's boardinghouse to a spot where Anne knew they couldn't be seen from the windows. Anne hadn't thought there was an upper limit on how much she'd want to be kissed in a day, and she was pleased to find that it seemed to be true. It was rather to her chagrin that they had to stop at all, but there was only so flushed a face that walking in the brisk spring night air would explain, and at that, Anne was hoping not to be noticed on her way to her room. 

Mercifully, Mrs. Kaye didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

Phil, however, was rather a different story. 

"Had a good time, did you?" she inquired, barely keeping her laughter in. When Anne's embarrassed grin proved to be her only answer, she continued needling. "So, do you need to write an apology to a minister for scandalizing hallowed ground with your carrying on?" 

" _Phil!_ " Anne threw a pillow at her. 

"Well, is that a yes or a no?" 

" _No!_ " 

The pair laughed heartily. 

"I take it you and Diana had a nice time, as well?" Anne wanted to know. 

For the first time, it was Phil whose cheeks pinked. "Rather." She sighed. "I wish she could be here all the time." 

"Don't I know it." Anne laid back on her bed, her boots hanging off the side. "Not exactly the same way you do, of course, but she is my friend, and I miss her." She sighed. "It was difficult enough for her to convince her parents that she ought to stay with Aunt Jo. They only allowed it because Charlottetown has… more of the _right_ people." 

Phil's expression clouded a bit. "I just wish that people could see how we feel and understand that… that it's no different." She forced a hard grin. "Well, while I'm wishing for unlikely change, I would also like to be able to wear trousers more often. I bought some when I first arrived here, you know. One professor told me that if I was incapable of following the rules, I was not to return to class. I asked him to show me where in the code of conduct or his own syllabus it was prohibited for women to wear trousers, particularly as it was a lab class and freedom of movement was a requirement. The syllabus was amended to include that women could wear trousers only on lab days. You'd best believe I wore them every lab session that term. Alas, the last day, the professor _happened_ to spill a staining agent on them, and I haven't yet procured a new pair." 

Anne was utterly starry-eyed. "Please tell me where you got them made! I've been dying for a pair!" 

Phil's smile was now genuine. "I'll take you next weekend. Unfortunately, I have a midterm to study for tomorrow." 

Anne nodded. "I'll take you up on that," she vowed. She thought for a moment, then leaned forward to take Phil's hand and squeeze it. "You know I'll always be here for you, for what that's worth." 

"It's worth quite a lot," Phil told her. "Anyway, happier things: what are you willing to tell me about this day trip, anyway?" 

"Well," Anne began, "we did get caught in a squall and had to find shelter in a deserted park…" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter this time word count wise, but hey, it was packed. Lotta smooching going on!
> 
> If all goes according to plan, the next chapter should be out in a few days.
> 
> As always, comments are loved, appreciated, and responded to in a hopefully-timely fashion!


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be going a bit "Anne of Windy Poplars" in this chapter. It's mostly epistolary, and I am not at all sorry about it because otherwise, you were going to get a whole lot of pining Anne and not much else. Yay, third person limited!

Though the weeks had gone quickly, especially after Easter, summer had come slowly. It was almost worse that way, because not only could Anne see the inevitable creeping closer, but there was so little time to enjoy the good weather together before Anne departed for Avonlea while Gilbert remained in Kingsport to do lab work for a professor.

She liked to think she'd done a good enough job of putting on a brave face before leaving, but Phil had commented on Anne's sighs before they'd left. The Cuthberts hadn't said anything, but they had ways of reacting that told Anne they were more than well aware of her melancholy state.

Naturally, Anne had promised to write frequently. At first, her declaration had been a letter a day. Gilbert was under no obligation to keep the same schedule, Anne had informed him when he'd looked ready to object. He had shaken his head and told her that it wasn't that he didn't want letters (they weren't her presence, but they were her words, and he'd take what he could get), but he'd pointed out that, romantic as pining and yearning were, his replies could be awfully boring. "Write a story, or a set of articles. Don't waste that brilliant mind entirely on me."

Anne had given him a look, unsure whether to be pleased with the compliment or to argue that writing him was certainly not a waste. She conceded that his suggestion was a good one, "but I'm still writing you whenever I please."

Gilbert had not argued, and so, Anne had started writing the day after she'd arrived home.

> _When I'm not in Avonlea, I long to be, but now that I'm here, though I love it dearly, I'm finding that longing replaced rather than relieved. It hardly seems fair. But I must say it: I miss you most desperately. It is far too bold of me, and even inappropriate, but I confess that I imagine what it would be like to lie in your arms at night. I keep myself busy during the day, but sleep has a way of unlocking the mind…_

As the weeks wore on, the letters alternated between descriptions of daily life and the hardships of being parted. In his first letter, Gilbert hardly wrote about anything other than wanting to see Anne again:

> _I don't find your confession too bold. In fact, I think it just the correct amount of bold. If it helps ease your longing (and even if it doesn't, I suppose), I wish for the same thing. In time, it will happen, but until it can, I know your imagination will at least be of comfort to you. (As for propriety, that has clearly gone out the window. I can restore mine, if my thoughts on the matter cause you discomfort. However, I hope you will take them as they are meant: hopes for a future that has yet to arrive, and that I intend to work toward with you.)..._

Anne must have read the letter ten times that day. She considered taking it out into the field and sighing over it some more, but was too afraid to lose it. Instead, she sighed over it as she lay back on her bed, the letter clasped to her chest. It felt silly, and she resolved to tell no one, not even Gilbert. She would, however let him know that he was correct about her imagination helping somehwat.

But only somewhat.

* * *

In his second letter, Gilbert mentioned meeting a dock worker named Bash while taking a walk around the port and bumping into him while he was offloading apples.

> _I remarked about how nothing ever tastes the same as food that comes from your home, even if you're not very far away at all. Bash told me I didn't know how good I have it; that there's all sorts of things that don't grow here that he misses from Trinidad—he went on about it for a while. Truthfully, his description makes Trinidad sound like paradise. I'd like to see it someday. For now, to hear him tell it, the closest I'll get is any chocolate that comes from the cacao grown there. It sounds like a fascinating plant..._

In her reply, Anne asked to know more about the plant. She knew chocolate had to come from one, of course, but beyond that, she hadn't known much, and requested that Gilbert find out more information in between news from Avonlea and the customary most of a page spent expressing her longing to see him again. As she was going to Charlottetown the next week to visit Diana, she was intending to look up some more about it, herself.

The time spent win Charlottetown certainly left her relaxed, though she'd sent Gilbert a letter from Charlottetown letting him know that both Diana and Cole had tried to convince her to show up in Kingsport, and that Aunt Jo would cover for her. She was mostly sure it had been a joke, but to say she hadn't been at all tempted by the adventure would have been wrong. She laughed when Gilbert replied that if Anne wanted to do the same kind of journalism as the Ms. Bly she admired so much, perhaps such an excursion might be branded as an educational experience.

(She'd stopped laughing rather abruptly when Cole pointed out just how euphemistic "educational experience" might be. Diana had glared at him and told him that Gilbert was _not_ that sort of cad. Cole had merely shrugged and responded that as long as Anne and Gilbert agreed to what transpired between them, he certainly wasn't going to judge.)

Anne included none of this in her next letter. 

> _I did manage to get some research done while I was in Charlottetown, despite surrounding myself with terrible influences. (Cole is reading over my shoulder, and I have decided to write the rest of this letter back in Avonlea.) I did some looking on Trinidad, as well, and I concur with your opinion. I suspect travel is in both our futures. It's something to which I am somewhat accustomed, though I suppose it's rather different to travel such a distance for work or for leisure. It's a thrilling prospect. I wonder if perhaps I'll see Scotland someday. It's one thing to know where I'm from, and I'm quite content with that, truly, but I certainly would not turn down the chance if offered..._

* * *

Gilbert's next letter made Anne glad she was back in Avonlea. She could only imagine her friends' opinions, because they would certainly give them. Of course it would all be in fun, and they meant nothing but well, but in absence of spending time alone with Gilbert, she wanted to spend time alone with his words.

> _I met Bash at the docks again, and as two chance meetings have made it clear that we're destined to be friends, he decided it was my turn to talk about my life. I told him about you, of course, which got him talking about his wife, Mary and their little girl, Delphine. Apparently I'm far from the only man to make a somewhat unfortunate first impression. Bash says he can see why you might have been put off at first: "You go all moony-eyed when you so much as think about her. It makes you look like an idiot." You'll have to tell me if that's true..._

Anne's response had flowed quickly, and she'd smiled the entire time she was writing it.

> _You may tell Bash that I find you handsome no matter how you look at me, thank you very much. And to hear Diana, Cole, and Phil tell it, my face gives everything away, and I'm sure they must think I have strange expressions thinking of you sometimes. Quite frankly, I think most people find adoring looks from the object of their affection charming. At least, you don't seem to dislike them when they're aimed at you, and I can say I don't dislike yours when they're aimed at me..._

Gilbert's next letter took a little longer than usual to arrive. He apologized for the delay, but promised that there had been a good reason: he'd been writing, but he'd also wanted Bash's response, and he hadn't seen him for a week, owing to Mary having been ill enough that Bash had wanted to stay home with her for the couple days they could afford (it was just a bad cold, Gilbert had explained, but Bash was a worrier), and Gilbert hadn't been able to walk the rest of the time because he'd had too much work.

Anne had been frowning, but it quickly turned to a sharp laugh when Gilbert went on to say that, in response to Anne saying she found Gilbert handsome, Bash had laughed and said that at least he knew that Anne and Gilbert were perfect for each other, _"your sweetheart's taste notwithstanding"_. She made a mental note to reply that she hoped Gilbert had given as good as he'd gotten, and kept reading.

* * *

It took until mid summer for the familiar heartbeat of Avonlea to best Anne's longing for Kingsport, or at least to see a certain resident thereof. It wasn't that she didn't still miss him terribly, but life back in Avonlea had simply become normal again. It was respite that Anne hadn't realized she needed, but it had finally dawned on her that it was still her first home. Home, perhaps, that didn't feel quite the same without Gilbert or her friends living elsewhere, but home nonetheless.

She said as much in a letter to Gilbert.

> _Avonlea was the first place I felt I belonged—I know I've told you this—but there are things about Kingsport I miss. I came into my own in Avonlea, of course, but I feel somewhat less of a desperate need to **belong**. I suspect it's because I had friends from the start—both back on the island and here._
> 
> _But there's something about **you** particularly. Home isn't so much a place as it is a feeling, and that feeling is particularly strong when I'm with you. I don't want to take away from that by saying that you're not the only person I feel that with, but I suspect I'll be forgiven for feeling it with the Cuthberts, and with Diana and Phil. It's different with you for numerous reasons, rest assured..._

Gilbert's response shot warmth straight down into her very soul.

> _I agree completely with you that home is a feeling rather than a place. Bash said something about Mary, and my dad said something similar about my mom: "No matter where we are, she makes me feel like home." You've always made me feel like that, from the moment we met. I'm not sure your concept of "kindred spirits" is exactly the feeling, but your warmth, your determination, your intelligence—they were obvious from the start, and it mystifies me that I didn't have more obvious competition for your heart. I'd like to think it's that your feelings for me were clear even when you tried to deny them. Maybe I just didn't want to see it. It's probably pointless to speculate on it now, but I won't lie and say that I don't wonder about it, mostly because, as we have argued countless times and will never stop arguing, I can't believe my luck that you did choose me. I don't want to take that for granted, ever..._

* * *

The exchange of letters continued. They learned each other's daily routines and of the more unusual events that occurred. Naturally, however, the bulk of their discussion remained about their feelings.

Marilla seemed to suspect increasingly that the letters weren't entirely innocent—Anne's tell-tale blush hadn't deserted her no matter how much poise she'd come to possess over the years, and it made itself evident whenever a letter from Gilbert arrived. Marilla wasn't entirely incorrect. Gilbert had said nothing unwelcome (and not only welcomed but encouraged any boldness Anne was comfortable exercising), and there was an implicit understanding of what was still off-limits to say, but descriptions of holding hands and embracing and kissing and dreams were not uncommon. Anne knew she'd never tire of talking about any of it, but while it wasn't as though she thought Gilbert as anything other than capable of willing to write of his thoughts and feelings, she was always pleasantly surprised to read of the new and different ways he came up with to express himself.

Anne's dedication to chores had suffered a bit, and Marilla was certainly sighing more often than usual, though it ended with a fond glance more often than not. At the end of the day, all the Cuthberts wanted for their charge was her happiness, and Anne was clearly quite capable of creating and maintaining it; Anne had overheard them saying as much on a couple occasions. She could tell that they were perhaps a little concerned with how intense things had become so quickly. But then, that was how Anne often experienced things.

* * *

A month before she was due to return to Kingsport, the most exciting news yet arrived.

> _Dear Anne,_
> 
> _You'll have to forgive me for not mentioning it earlier, but I wasn't sure it would be entirely possible until recently: I will be returning to Avonlea for two weeks before next term. If it will help, I'll bring flowers and serenade you and pledge my love a thousand times..._
> 
> __

* * *

> _Dear Gilbert,_
> 
> _I suppose I can forgive your egregious omission until you were sure. I certainly won't turn down flowers or pledges of undying love, but I think a serenade may be a bit much. I think a picnic lunch would be far more suitable..._
> 
> __

* * *

> _Dear Anne,_
> 
> _A picnic lunch, it shall be. I think I recall a convenient circle of pines..._
> 
> __

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you are going to get to see this visit; don't worry. Yes, this story is also staying rated T; feel however you like about that.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter basically just shameless making out during a picnic?  
> Yes. Yes it is.

Anne lay back in the grass on the blanket she'd brought with, trying to relax. She'd already seen Gilbert yesterday after he'd arrived, so of course, she knew that nothing had changed, but her heart and stomach still fluttered nervously. The plan hadn't seemed ill-conceived this morning, but, as ever, now that she was actually putting it into action, it was a little daunting.

She heard footsteps. Anne sat up and looked around. What if it wasn't—?

It was.

Anne saw Gilbert's grin, and telling herself (untrue as it was) that it was now or never, she rose to her feet and strode up to him. It took a moment for the surprise to register on Gilbert's face, but by the time they were standing toe to toe, his adoring (perhaps ardent was the better word) gaze was firmly back in place.

"Hello." Anne was doing her level best not to sound shy, but how could she not when Gilbert was looking at her like that? When Gilbert didn't say anything for a moment, she took a nervous breath and offered, "…Surprise?"

"I shouldn't be surprised, but I am." Gilbert stepped back to take in Anne's latest wardrobe acquisition. "And it's an _extremely_ pleasant surprise."

Anne couldn't help a relieved sigh. "I hoped you'd like it." She couldn't help a quick spin, though trousers didn't flare out the way a skirt would. (Which, of course, was rather the point, and again, it did not seem that Gilbert minded at all.)

"Me, specifically?" Gilbert was teasing, mostly, but there was definitely a hint of something in his tone that said he might be taking some small part of it seriously.

"They're not _just_ for you, of course." Anne clarified, rolling her eyes fondly. "I'm going to see what happens when I wear them to classes this year. Phil and I are going to start a revolution. I'm trying to convince Marilla that it's really not going to cause the kind of uproar she thinks it will."

"I don't think her hearing my opinion on you wearing trousers would help," Gilbert told her mirthfully, though his eyes were quite serious.

Anne cleared her throat, her cheeks pinking a bit more than they already had, though she still grinned. "Yes, well, I can see where she might decide to lock me in my room rather than let me go back to Redmond if it was you doing the convincing." She shifted back a bit closer to Gilbert. "Though she has to know I'd sneak out onto the branches of the Snow Queen, or tie my sheets together and climb out the window." She thought for a moment, then brightened when she added, "And trousers do make that significantly easier."

"You wouldn't wait for me to come rescue you?" Gilbert joked.

Anne nudged him playfully with her shoulder. "I suppose I wouldn't mind you being there to catch me and carry me off."

"That's a compromise I can certainly live with." Gilbert leaned in and kissed Anne soundly. He stepped back, and Anne started to turn as if to walk back to the blanket, but Gilbert had a rather different idea. He looped one arm behind Anne's back and bent to pick up her legs with the other. " _Gil!_ " Anne laughed. "Gil, I can walk!" Despite her protest, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Gilbert huffed out a laugh. "Oh, I know, but as I think it rather unlikely that I'll actually need to come to your aid, I figured I could at least indulge in carrying you off."

"My hero," Anne sighed, half-flirtatious and half-facetious. But when Gilbert set her down—set her legs down, anyway; his other arm remained around her waist—before pulling away, she pulled him down for another swift kiss before they settled down for their picnic.

It was simple fare: Anne had grabbed some bread and cheese and had managed to wheedle Marilla into making plum puffs. Late in the summer as it was, Gilbert had managed to bring along some of the early apples. Gilbert immediately went for a plum puff, causing Anne to laugh. When he looked at her, all Anne could say through her laughter was "Dessert first?"

Gilbert shrugged. "I don't have access to them as often as you do; this isn't an everyday thing. And besides—" he shot Anne a winning smile "—I have a particular fondness for sweet things."

Anne bit her lip against a grin, though she couldn't at all hide it. "That might have more impactful if you didn't have plum preserves at the corner of your mouth." She swiped her thumb across the spot and casually licked it clean. "That said, I will never turn down a compliment from you." She put together a small sandwich from a piece of bread torn in half and a slice of cheese and popped it into her mouth.

As she finished it, she spoke again. "I used to dream of this, you know. Picnics in the summer sun, I mean. The reality of it… well, dreams didn't do it justice. I have a guardian who cared to make something I asked her to for no other reason than that it made me happy. I have a place where I feel safe, and where I have fond memories. And best of all, I have you."

Gilbert's smile hadn't left his face, but it had shifted from playful and almost mischievous to tender. Anne had the vague thought that she couldn't decide which smile she preferred, not that it mattered; that distinction went to the thoughts of the person doing the smiling. All she could do was smile back. Gilbert reached out to take her hand and just held it for a moment. Anne had to catch her breath. One (well, more than one) dream now fulfilled, she was immediately launched into the next.

She wasn't sure Gilbert wasn't seeing the same vision. They'd certainly talked about it. It was still all wishes and hopes and dreams, but those had been increasingly coming to pass. Why shouldn't the same hold true for these new ones?

Anne gave Gilbert's hand a brief squeeze and released it, and they went back to eating in quiet contentment.

* * *

Half an hour later, they were relocating to under a tree, as Anne had realized she was going to start burning if they didn't. Gilbert would, too, but Anne's cheeks and nose were already a little pink from the sun.

She'd looked up at the tree they were under and, instead of settling down on the blanket with Gilbert, slung her leg over a branch and, not quite suppressing a gleeful noise, started hauling herself up into the tree.

She was focused on moving from limb to limb, but occasionally cast looks back at Gilbert, who was watching curiously. When she reached a branch that bent slightly under her weight, she looked down through the branches and, practically giddy, announced, "I believe I have found another benefit of trousers."

"So you have." Gilbert came to lean against the tree in a spot where he could mostly see up to Anne. He, too, started to climb, but only to grab something out of the branches before very carefully climbing back down. "The scarf you had in your hair seems to disagree." He held it up for Anne to see. "And while I don't disagree with the joy being able to climb trees brings you, I have to say that there is a rather lamentable lack of your presence on solid ground."

"You could join me," Anne cajoled.

Gilbert shook his head. "I fell out of a tree when I was five from about how high up you are now, and while I wasn't hurt badly, it did sour me on the experience."

"Gil…" Anne slowly and carefully picked her way down. She was halted two branches above the one she'd started on by Gilbert standing between the branch she was on and the next lowest. She sat down on the branch and, placing her hand on Gilbert's shoulders, slid forward—not quite off the branch—into his waiting arms. Naturally, she didn't complain when, instead of allowing her down, Gilbert pulled her in for a long kiss.

For once, Anne was in the position to get her hands into Gilbert's hair first, and she did not let the opportunity go to waste. She hadn't quite slid all the way off the branch, and so, feeling safe enough but also daring enough, wrapped her legs around Gilbert's waist just as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. She made a quiet but unmistakably contented noise at the back of her throat as Gilbert's arms tightened around her waist. Gilbert seemed to take that as his cue to deepen the kiss even farther, and Anne obliged, parting her lips against his.

Anne thought she might have done something wrong when, after her tongue just grazed Gilbert's bottom lip, he pulled away, but no sooner had the thought occurred to her than she felt a kiss just under her ear. She managed to turn a gasp into slow, shaking breaths, her head lolling back just a bit as Gilbert gave the spot every ounce of his attention, never moving too far from it. He took his time returning to her mouth, and Anne had the vague notion that it was a good thing she hadn't been standing, because she wasn't sure she was capable of it at the moment.

She was therefore rather surprised when Gilbert lifted her from the branch, his arms low around her hips to keep her close. Anne was practically clinging on to him for dear life at first, not at all used to being held this way, but as the sensations grew more and more familiar (and more welcome, though they certainly hadn't been unwelcome to begin with), she rediscovered her boldness and began her own appreciation of the same spot on Gilbert as he had on her. She, too, lingered and only very slowly returned for one last, soft kiss.

As they drew back, Gilbert slowly let Anne down. Anne gazed up at him, feeling more than a little hazy. The way he was looking back down at her didn't help. Thankfully, they were already on the blanket as she slowly sank down to sit.

Gilbert quickly followed. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, concern encroaching on the gentle smile he was giving her.

Anne nodded. "Just a little dizzy." She reached out for the bottle of water she'd brought with her, taking it from Gilbert with a grateful smile as he handed it to her.

"I take it this isn't the result of overindulging this time?" Gilbert joked.

Anne thought for a moment, her smile turning just a little mischievous. "Well, after a fashion…"

Gilbert made a speculative noise, but he was very clearly fighting a grin. "Perhaps I shouldn't suggest a somewhat slower pace of building up your tolerance?"

Anne wiped her sleeve across her mouth and closed the bottle. "Oh, I'm listening," she replied in a low voice.

Gilbert, however, didn't speak, but instead laid down on his side, beckoning Anne to join him. He wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Anne wriggled closer, unable to resist a few short kisses before relaxing. Her smile grew as Gilbert pressed another kiss to her forehead.

Once again, she was overwhelmed with dreams of the future. These were a little closer than the ones she'd had earlier; the ones with children running around as their parents looked on. These ones were in the time between now and then; they were the quiet moments with just the two of them, exploring their love as it grew. It was so safe and secure and warm already that it was hard to believe that more was possible, but it was. Here, in this quiet moment, she wanted everything and nothing more at the same time.

It wouldn't always be easy—Anne wasn't so naive as to believe that—but it would be worth the occasional hardship.

Gilbert's heartbeat under her hand and his gentle breaths across her forehead, the light circles he traced on her back, and the heat of the day were all lulling her towards sleep.

"Gil?" she mumbled.

"Hm?" He sounded only a little less sleepy than she did.

"We sh'dn't fall 'sleep." She was so drowsy she could hardly get the words out.

Gilbert shifted to lie on his back, pulling Anne with so her cheek rested on his chest. "You can fall asleep, then. I'll stay awake."

"'S not what I meant," Anne objected, though her heart wasn't in it at all.

She had to smile—and she could hear the smile in Gilbert's voice—when he assured her, "Oh, I know."

* * *

Anne hadn't fallen asleep so much as she'd dozed for a while, lulled and contented by the feeling of Gilbert running his hand over her hair, playing with the errant lock here or there. _Of course he would._ She pushed herself up, stopping for a quick kiss before making it up to sitting. She looked around for her scarf, only to find it tied around Gilbert's wrist. At Anne's somewhat skeptical look, he merely shrugged and asked, "Was I supposed to wear it?"

He had a point, but he'd also left an opening Anne couldn't help but pursue. "Well, green suits you as well as it does me, and quite honestly, they do help in keeping things out of your hair." She finished tying her scarf and reached up and pulled a few pine needles from Gilbert's hair.

"The color might suit me well enough, but I'm starting to think that there's nothing I could wear that wouldn't be improved by you wearing it instead." Gilbert plucked gently at the suspender straps at Anne's shoulder, then hooked his finger under it and stepped closer, pulling Anne in at the same time and winding his free arm around her waist. Anne placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned up for a sweet, lingering kiss.

As they parted, Anne murmured, "Someday, you'll find a way to compliment me that doesn't involve talking yourself down."

Gilbert didn't let her go just yet. "Believe me, Anne: it's not that I don't think well of myself. It's that I know what you mean to me, and I want you to know it, too."

"Gil…" Anne raised a hand to his cheek. "I _know_. I know that as deeply and truly as I know how much you mean to me. It's more than I'll ever be able to tell you, but I hope you know it, because you deserve to."

Gilbert leaned in for another kiss, longer but softer than the last one. Anne had the thought—not for the first time either today or ever—that she'd never tire of feeling this way, nor of expressing it. It was wonderful, even with the slight edge of insecurity. She wanted to make that disappear, of course, and she'd do her utmost to ensure that it did. Not just through kissing—although it was certainly a more favored method—but telling Gilbert and showing him the same way he did Anne.

And, on occasion, surprising him every now and again.

Anne gave Gilbert one last quick kiss as he pulled away, and with quiet smiles, they started folding put the blanket and packing their things before starting back home hand-in-hand. Anne had idly wondered what would happen if they were seen, or more accurately, if she was seen in trousers, but slowly, Avonlea had become an easier place to break the rules just a little, at least, if you were Anne. That said, Anne was already holding Gilbert's hand rather than his arm, and that combined with trousers might just end the known world for some. Anne said as much to Gilbert when he asked what she was thinking about, causing him to laugh so hard that they had to stop.

They'd planned on parting ways before Green Gables, but they were loath to let the moment go quite so soon. Gilbert stopped in to say hello to the Cuthberts and to thank Marilla for the plum puffs, which Anne suspected contributed to Marilla giving them a few seconds to kiss good bye on the porch before clearing her throat, instead of doing so before their lips had touched.

As Anne watched Gilbert go (turning back every so often to glance at Anne), she realized she was the most content she'd been all summer. She'd been looking forward to returning to Kingsport, and she certainly still wanted to return, but, sighing, Anne wished it could hold off just a little bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From my outline notes for the chapter after y'all decided pants were the important part of things two chapters back: "Gilbert visits Avonlea for the last couple weeks of summer. Anne's finally gotten trousers, and there is some heavy making out because… no self control on either of their parts? ^^;"  
> I dunno... y'all wanted this; I'm apparently just along for the ride now!  
> That said, the epilogue is also being posted today! If you do not see it now because you somehow managed to get to this chapter in the 5-ish minutes it's going to take me to post that, fear not; it will be up soon!


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're skipping forward 5 years from last chapter. Y'all can do the math on where that lands us. :D

"Hold still, Anne; I need to get these pins out."

Anne resisted the urge to shake her head impatiently, though that was mostly made easier by the occasional hint of massage her husband was giving her scalp. "You are taking entirely too long and I strongly suspect that this has to do with not being allowed to have your hands in my hair for the last few days." She'd been trying to sound annoyed, but she couldn't entirely manage it.

His smile very much in his voice, Gilbert replied, "I will neither confirm nor deny this suspicion. In the meantime, as you've reminded me I haven't seen you for the last few days—" He paused to grab something to hand to Anne. "—you'll be wanting to see this now that I've the opportunity to give it to you."

Anne took the letter and smiled, recognizing Mary's handwriting. She was late in her pregnancy, and so she and Bash had been unable to attend (really, she'd insisted she was fine, but Bash was a worrier and quite frankly, her feet hurt, and she hoped they'd forgive her), and had instead sent Gilbert a letter to read and share with Anne.

Anne smiled when she got near the end of the letter.

> _While you are clearly perfectly capable of carrying out a loving relationship, it is somewhat traditional for those who have been married longer to offer advice, and so we offer this. We asked Dellie what she thought the most important thing is that Mama and Papa do to stay happy with each other. She said "Love each other". (Well, first she said that Mama makes delicious cake for Papa and Papa brings Mama flowers, but she did say loving each other when we said it had to be something we both do, and those actions are part of showing love to each other.) So, that's our advice. Even when it's difficult, even when you're apart, in the every day and the extraordinary, love each other. Without that, there's no reason to move forward, and with it, you have every reason._

"That sounds like Dellie, alright," Anne laughed. "We'll have to visit them once the baby is born."

Gilbert made a noise of agreement as he struggled with a particularly stubborn pin without yanking Anne's hair. Finally freeing it, he remarked, "We'll be doing quite the tour, then."

"You don't have to join me in Charlottetown if you don't want to," Anne teased. "I know Aunt Jo's first impression still haunts you."

It was Gilbert's turn to laugh. "Phil was my friend first, if you'll recall. I would like to see her."

Cole, Phil and Diana had been able to attend the wedding, but Aunt Jo was now particularly frail, and had sent her regret. Aunt Jo's health concerns and worries about the future had caused some strife among her three "charges" recently, but they'd all seemed happy today. Anne had noticed while embracing them that Phil wore a pin with a crescent moon on it, and Diana wore a pin with a horse on it. It had made her grin.

"Besides," Gilbert continued, finishing with the pins and sitting down next to Anne, "I'd very much like to spend time with you."

"Would you, now?" Anne slid back on the bed to lie down and smirked. "And why would that be, I wonder?"

Gilbert pretended to ponder the question as he joined her. "I _think_ it has something to do with those vows we made before our family, friends and God today."

"Those did not dictate that we spend all our waking hours together," Anne pointed out.

"No," agreed Gilbert, "but I am to love, comfort, honor, and keep you, am I not? It's easier to do in close proximity, you have to admit."

"I suppose," Anne admitted with a wry smile. "Although I'm getting the distinct impression that you have rather more near-term plans keep those commitments."

"Any objections?" Gilbert asked softly, taking Anne's hand.

Anne lifted Gilbert's hand to her lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles, and then, with a distinctly lascivious gleam in her eye, replied, "Not a one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you just read that saccharine mess, and you (hopefully) enjoyed it!  
> Okay, explaining the pins: Di's horse pin is because "Philippa" comes from "Philip", meaning "friend/lover of horses". Phil's moon pin for Diana is probably a bit more straightforward, but if not, Diana is the Roman goddess of the moon.  
> As always, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU ALL for coming on this journey! I've appreciated all the feedback/comments—I really love interacting with readers! It's been a crazy few months for me, and I'm definitely going back to shorter stories for a while after this, but I'm sure I'll be back with longer stories eventually!


End file.
